Taken
by Richefic
Summary: When the team is captured Tony makes himself a target for torture but Gibbs ends up being the one who needs rescuing.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer – The characters don't belong to me I'm just torturing them for fun.

AN – Actually started that at New Year. Part of my "Not a Guest Room" Universe – which means Tony is living with Gibbs and Jackson's holiday visit to DC isn't over just yet. Suggestive adult themes and some violence but nothing explict actually happens.

* * *

"Well, this wasn't exactly how I planned on spending New Year's Eve," Tony commented, as he restlessly paced the small concrete basement, despite the team already having ruled out any feasible means of escape some time ago. "Unless, one of you has a copy of Quantum of Solace and a large pizza, with sausage, pepperoni and extra cheese in your back pocket?"

"You don't have a date?" McGee looked up, from his position across the room, as he shifted slightly on the cold floor. "On New Year's Eve?"

"Are you offering, Probie?" Tony asked.

"You .. could .. do worse," Ziva put in from where she was trying unsuccessfully to unscrew the hinges of the heavy metal door with a small knife. "McGee has been looking very dapper lately."

"You know, that's not going to work, Ziva," McGee advised her.

"I am aware of that," Ziva agreed. "But it is bad enough that they have taken us captive, making the effort passes the time, and at least makes me feel better."

"You should save your strength, 'till you need it." Gibbs counselled, from the far corner. "You too, DiNozzo. Both of you sit down. Nothing we can do right now but wait."

"Easy for you to say, you're used to spending all your free time in a basement," Tony pointed out, as he nevertheless dropped obediently onto the floor opposite his Boss, as Ziva sat down where she was. "I can't believe we're missing New Year's Eve. You know, in some parts of the world, it's already past midnight. Although, to be fair 2010 isn't an actual year, it's a science fiction movie starring Roy Scheider."

"It was a book first." Gibbs rejoined.

"Where do you think they've gone?" McGee asked no-one in particular.

"To fetch the head honcho. Bring the big cheese here. Make contact the King Pin," Tony shrugged. "Those guys who captured us were just the drones, the minions, worker bees, they weren't expecting a house call from NCI-us."

"And now they do not know what to do with us," Ziva joined in. "Or they would have killed us already. Obviously, these men do not have the ability to make that kind of decision."

"They had the ability to take us hostage." McGee pointed out.

"That's because there was a _lot_ of bad guys," Tony pointed out. "A whole friggin' bunch of 'em, not even Arnie could have beaten those odds."

"I do not understand. There was nothing to suggest there would be this level of resistance," Ziva furrowed her brow. "Everything about their DVD distribution business appeared legitimate. They even paid their taxes on time. We would not even have come here if our deceased petty officer's boyfriend had not been on their "movie of the month" mailing list and we had run out of other leads."

"Maybe, they're using the distribution network for the DVDs to traffic whatever it is they're dealing in," McGee spoke up. "Of course, it would have to be pretty small to pass unseen in the crates under the DVDs but that could cover a whole lot of stuff."

"Perhaps, our Petty Office stumbled upon something her boyfriend was involved in and was killed for what she had seen," Ziva mused.

"Her autopsy ruled out drugs use and Dawkins tested negative." Gibbs reminded.

"Gems would be easy to hide, any small space, even a freezer would do," McGee considered. "But selling them on would leave some kind of trail."

"So would any kind of small arms deal." Gibbs added.

"And Dawkins was a bout as computer literate as our fearless leader so any kind of chip or gizmo thingy a la Probie is out," Tony added helpfully, smiling beatifically at his Boss as he carefully stayed out of head slapping range, before his whole expression suddenly changed, "Unless, of course, the bad guys aren't 'smuggling' anything at all."

"DiNozzo?" Gibbs demanded.

"Sorry, Boss," Tony looked like he was going to be sick. "I think I screwed up. Big time, Dawkins had almost as many DVDs in his apartment as I do. I looked at a few of his titles but I didn't play a single one of them."

"It would not be worth the risk for the kind of porn a sailor could buy in any port." Ziva's expression was grave. "I think perhaps Dawkins had very particular tastes."

"You think he killed his girlfriend as part of a sex scene, taken a step too far?" McGee hazarded.

"Or they always intended for her to die," Tony spoke tonelessly. "Ever heard of snuff movies, Probie? CSI Las Vegas did an episode about those once. Why the hell didn't I watch those films?"

"They killed her so they could film her death," McGee realised. "So, all those people on their distribution list were paying to watch movies like that? God, that's sick."

"Then it's a good job we still have the advantage then," Gibbs strove to rally his despondent team.

"Boss, they took our cell phones, our cuffs, our primary weapons and all our backups," McGee pointed out. "How does that give us the advantage?"

"They did not get all my back-up weapons." Ziva boasted.

"Mine neither." Tony allowed.

"Nor mine," Gibbs shrugged. "And they don't know what we know, which means they don't know why we're here. They probably don't even know who we are."

"People generally don't," Tony groused, "Doesn't anyone else find that the least bit embarrassing?"

"If it upsets you that much you can always go work for the FBI," McGee pointed out. "Everyone who has watched the X-Files has heard of them."

"No I can't," Tony grinned briefly at his Boss. "Gibbs would hunt me down and kill me if I ever accepted any of Fornell's job offers."

"Fornell offered you a job?" McGee blinked. "I didn't think he even liked you."

"I hear something,"`Ziva spoke up from her position by the door. "They are coming."


	2. Chapter 2

Very few things in this life had the power to scare Leroy Jethro Gibbs any more. He was a man who had already been taken to the very brink of his endurance on more than one occasion. He knew that he was strong enough to withstand almost anything that Andrews could do to him. But seeing his people at the mercy of a man as dangerously unbalanced as Mark Andrews made his gut clench with fear.

It was obvious that this was a man who took his pleasure from the pain and suffering of others. Gibbs had met others like him before. Andrews didn't care what they knew because he didn't intend for any of them to survive. He would enjoy torturing them for its own sake, drawing out their agony for as long as he could. Their inevitable deaths would be nothing more than an inconvenient end to his cruel entertainment. And Gibbs was damned if he was going to let this man have his fun at the expense of any of his people.

"So, the only question is which one of you will entertain me first?" Andrews purred. With a feral smile he stepped right into McGee's personal space, the two heavily armed henchmen behind him discouraging the young agent from doing anything more than taking one step back, to try and maintain some distance between them as Andres reached up to stroke his face. "You are a little young for my tastes but innocence can be extremely diverting."

"You want to see how innocent I am when I break your wrist?" McGee challenged, as he jerked his face away.

"Well then, perhaps, I should choose the woman," Andrews turned his attention to Ziva, looking her up and down as if undressing her with his eyes. "There are so many diverting things that can be done to a woman."

Ziva's only response was to lean forward and spat defiantly in his face and when Andrews didn't react at all, simply letting the spittle slid down his face, Gibbs knew that they were in serious trouble. Anyone who had that level of emotional control was beyond dangerous.

"Although, these things can be done to a man, also," Andrews tuned his head to look at Gibbs, easily identifying the older man with the commanding bearing as the one in charge. "How do you think your people would re-act to see their noble leader so humbled?"

Gibbs carefully drew himself up to his full height as he looked his adversely in the eyes in open challenge. He didn't give a rat's ass what his team would think. This man could reduce him to crying like a baby if it meant he would be taking the place of any one of them. The longer this bastard was busy playing his sick games with him the more time Gibbs would be buying for NCIS to come looking for all of them and the safer his team would be.

"Please, we're Federal Agents. Don't you think they give us training in scenarios like this?" DiNozzo's voice scoffed loudly.

Gibbs eyes narrowed as he looked across the room at his senior field agent, who was lounging against the wall, as if he didn't have a care in the world. The former Marine intensified his glare, silently threatening dire retribution if DiNozzo even thought about deliberately putting himself in the line of fire. Tony simply stared right back at him, letting the glare roll off him, his eyes dark and determined, until Andrews turned around to look at him and then Tony's face split into a bright, broad, grin, as if he had just met his new best friend.

Gibbs clenched his fists helplessly, pressed his finger nails into his palms so hard, he could feel the blood blossoming.

"You have something to say for yourself?" Andrews leered openly, as he drank in the Italian's rumpled designer suit, the neat Windsor knot of the silk tie hanging lose at his neck, an open button exposing line of his throat, the crisp slightly white shirt un-tucked at the waist, the faint line of five o'clock stubble shadowing the well-defined jaw, all of which gave the younger man something of a debauched look.

Gibbs nearly broke a tooth as DiNozzo actually preened under the attention. If Andrews didn't kill him, he sure as hell would as soon as this was all over.

"You don't want McGee over there," Tony nodded his head in the direction of the junior agent. "He passes out at the sight of his own blood. It'd be game over in less than 30 seconds. Where's the fun in that for a man of your obvious talents?"

"So, I'll take the woman," Andrews shrugged. "From what my men tell me she is willing to put up something of a fight. I will enjoy that."

"Be my guest," Tony allowed. "I hear plastic surgeons can do some remarkable things these days. Apparently, they can sew almost any appendage back on so that it looks as good as new. Of course, they don't usually work quite as effectively, apparently reattaching all those little veins can be kinda tricky. But hey, you probably already have all the children you want."

"You think this fragile little thing could best me?" Andrews ran a hand through Ziva's hair like a caress, until he seized a fist full and yanked her head back sharply, ensuring that her throat was painfully exposed. The Israeli did not make a sound as her eyes burned with defiance as she tried to stare Andres down. "I could snap her pretty neck like a twig."

"Please," Tony scoffed. "She's Mossad trained. Do you have any idea what that means? She could kill you will a paperclip, with both of her hands tied behind her back, but still if you want to take the risk, be my guest."

"Perhaps your Boss will provide me with the challenge I seek?" Andrews mused.

"You do know he's a Marine, right?" Tony tipped his head on one side. "So, he'll hold out for as long as it takes. But he won't make a sound. He probably won't even flinch. You won't know how much he's hurting. You might misjudge things and accidently kill him before you've had any fun. But hey, if stoicism is your thing, go right ahead."

"And what about you?" Andrews enquired smoothly.

"Me?" Tony looked at their captor without a hint of emotion. "I cry like a little girl at a paper cut."

"I am not entirely sure I believe that," Andrews stepped a little closer to him. "I think perhaps, you are as brave as you seem to be foolhardy. Maybe, you are hoping that if I am fully occupied entertaining myself with you, this will protect your teammates from their share of the ignominy and pain. Am I correct?"

"Wait, you left out the part where..," Tony paused, considering. "No, that's pretty much the whole plan. You play with me, they get off scot free. How's it working so far?"

"In case you haven't noticed," Andrews reached out and seized his jaw, his fingers pressing painfully into his cheekbones as he put his lips so close to the younger man that drops of his spittle landed on his face. "You are in no position to make demands."

"You lay a hand on him and you'll answer to me." Gibbs vowed.


	3. Chapter 3

The words came instinctively out of Gibbs' mouth before he could even think. As Andrews turned to look at him, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes, the former marine knew it looked like he had made a rookie mistake. All his training warned about showing too much concern for fellow prisoners, in case it singled them out for special attention, or encouraged their captors to use their loyalty to one another against them. Frankly, Gibbs didn't think they could be any more screwed than they already were.

Andrews would have to be an idiot, not to realise that his team always had each others' six. And this man was anything but stupid.

"It is interesting," Andrews did indeed look fascinated, as he tightened his grip on Tony's jaw, pressing his cheeks inwards so that Gibbs could almost see the bruises rising. "That your Boss here seems to care more about your welfare than you do. What could possibly have made such an articulate and attractive young thing feel so utterly worthless? Never mind, we will have plenty of time to get to know each other."

"I'm looking forward to it already." Tony managed

"But first," Andrews abruptly released him with an arrogant little shove, so that the back of Tony's head cracked painfully against the wall. "I need to make sure that your noble leader understands his proper role in all of this."

Gibbs honestly didn't feel anything but relief as Andrews turned his attention to him. Even the deadly looking flick knife that the man produced from his jacket pocket didn't cause him more than a flicker of unease. He had lived with pain every day of his life since Shannon and Kelly had been murdered, nothing this man might do to him could begin to match that agony. And his continued survival owed a whole lot to the four other people in this room. He lifted his chin definitely, determined to honour that debt with courage.

"Oh no," Andrews smiled evily. "You didn't think I would make it _that _easy did you? Choose. Not your boy over there but one of the others to pay the price for your arrogance."

"Too much of a coward to pick on somebody your own size?" Gibbs tried to goad him into focusing his energies on him. "Need to attack women and younger guys to make you feel like a real man?"

"Do you _want_ me to choose _both_ of them?" Andrews threatened.

"No," Gibbs assured him hastily. The more injured his team was the harder it would be to effect an escape. Not to mention the guilt he would feel if his failure to make a command decision caused one of them needless pain. "I'll choose."

"Pick me," Ziva instructed tonelessly. "This would hardly be my first time being tortured. I doubt a man such as this can come up with anything I haven't already endured."

"Which is exactly why you shouldn't have to go through anything like that ever again, do you think it was easy just laying there as Saleem had his fun with people I care about?" McGee protested. "Choose me, Boss, experiencing it sure as hell can't be any harder than having to stand by and watch."

Gibbs felt his chest tighten with pride. His people's willingness to save each other only made any kind of decision like that even more difficult. He noted that the henchmen were looking bored and uninterested. Clearly Andrews' activities were nothing new to them. Now if only he could get their captor to move one step closer to Ziva they might have a chance. Going with his gut he could only hope he was making the right decision.

"McGee," He decided. "I chose him."

"Very well," Andrews allowed. "Then let this be your first lesson. You are not in control here. I will not be manipulated. And your preferences mean nothing to me. I am in charge and so I choose the woman."

As Andrews moved towards Ziva, Gibbs did not even need to make eye contact with team to know that they were poised and ready. As soon as Andrews made the fatal mistake of putting himself between his henchmen and his prisoners, effectively blocking their shot Ziva pulled the scarf from around her neck and proceeded to strangle him. Taking advantage of the henchmen's indecision Gibbs laid one out cold with a single punch, whilst Tony and McGee swiftly incapacitated the other.

"Go," Gibbs ordered, snatching up one of the henchman's guns as DiNozzo picked up the other and ran up the stairs. McGee armed himself with the weapon which had fallen out of Andrews' jacket. "Ziva, come on."

"I just need another moment," Ziva protested. "He is not yet dead."

"Don't think we have another minute," DiNozzo called back down from his vantage point at the top of the stairs. "All this fun and games has attracted some attention, two men closing in on our two o'clock Boss and they have really big guns."

"Ziva now," Gibbs ordered. "McGee, move out."

As a team they moved up the stairs and across the warehouse floor, finding what cover they could behind the crates and machinery as the two gun men closed in and began to lay down fire. Taking a position up by the door, Tony gave a broad grin, not at all in keeping with their present rather desperate situation.

"I think I found us a way out of here," Looking at his partner who was already covering the other side of the door, he nodded at Andrews' large showy Mercedes parked outside. "Ziva, think you can hot wire that baby?"

"In a hot second," Ziva grinned at him. "If it will get us out of here."

"I never thought I would actually say this," Tony admitted. "But for once I might even be glad that having you behind the wheel makes Gibbs' look like a Driver's Ed teacher. Ready?"

At Ziva's nod Tony laid down covering fire, swiftly joined by Gibbs who took up Ziva's vacated position, whilst McGee covered their rear. It only took the Israeli a few moments to unlock the car and pull out the wires to get the engine going.

"Damn," Tony pressed himself back against the doorway as one bullet came a little too close. "Is it my imagination or are there more of them? I think there are more of them."

"Then the sooner we get out of here the better," Gibbs decided. "McGee, go."

The bullets continued to fly as McGee raced towards the car and drove into the passenger seat. Just as he arrived safely DiNozzo's gun gave a hollow click, indicating that he was out of bullets.

"Go." Gibbs ordered.

"What happened to not leaving a man behind?" Tony challenged. "We go together, or not at all."

"DiNozzo," Gibbs scowled. But in truth he expected no less from his senior field agent. "Alright, on three."

It was only a short distance. Ziva had the car's engine running. McGee was providing covering fire. All they needed to do was sprint across and as DiNozzo might put it, 'not get dead'. At first it looked like they would actually make it. Tony saw the car looming closer, he could almost feel his hand closing on the door handle and nearly allowed himself to hope that they would all get away. Just when beside him Gibbs gave a grunt of pain, stumbled and fell, as a bullet grazed his gun arm and knocked him off balance.

"Boss," DiNozzo didn't hesitate as he stopped and turned on his heel, ignoring Gibbs grunt of pain as he hauled the former marine to his feet. "S'okay, I've got you."

He risked a look behind him, to see four, five, six, gunmen closing on their position. Looking ahead the car with McGee and Ziva's anxious expressions looked impossibly inviting. Safety was tantalisingly close, but frustratingly just not quite close enough. Alone, Tony might have made it in time. Helping an injured Gibbs there was no chance that they would both get there safely.

"Go," He yelled at Ziva and McGee. "Get out of here now."

He knew they wouldn't like it but there was no point in all four of them being recaptured. Tony watched as the Mercedes containing his team mates accelerated to safety with only a small pang of regret as he supported the weight of a semi-conscious Gibbs. However, his heart sank as he heard an already all too familiar voice behind him.

"You thought you could outwit me?" Andrews' voice, was raspy from recent lack of oxygen but still oozed pure venom. "Rest assured, I will enjoy punishing you both for such impudence."


	4. Chapter 4

Gibbs' first coherent thought was that his arm hurt like hell. His second was that he was really getting too old to keep falling asleep underneath his boat like this. Too much bourbon had given him a killer headache and the bare floor was much too cold and far too hard for him to rest comfortably on, so that his damaged knee was throbbing at its cavalier treatment. Then he heard DiNozzo's ragged breathing close by and his memories came flooding back.

Looking around, Gibbs realised with a sinking heart that they had been moved. One corner of this small room was furnished with a couch, some rugs and drapes and a selection of lamps, ready for filming. The other corner held recording equipment and a single door. There were no windows, the lamps providing all illumination, but glancing at his wrist watch Gibbs saw that almost half an hour had passed since their abortive escape. Someone, somehow he doubted it was Andrews, had put a makeshift dressing on his arm to stem the blood flow, it might still hurt like hell, but at least he wasn't in any imminent danger of dying.

Grateful that Andrews had apparently left them alone for the moment, Gibbs crawled over to his senior field agent. DiNozzo was curled up in the foetal position on the bare concrete floor. Looking the younger man over, Gibbs could see no obvious signs of injury, except that his senior field agent's defensive position and uneven breathing, not to mention his lack of response to his Boss' presence, indicated that something bad had happened. Knowing from experience that it was better not to catch the younger man off guard he tried using his voice to reach him.

"DiNozzo?"

"B Boss?" Tony rolled his head around, blinking owlishly up at his team lead from his position on the floor but tellingly he made no move to get up. "You're awake .. you doin' 'kay?"

"I'm fine," Gibbs frowned, dismissing his own nagging discomfort in the face of DiNozzo's un-natural pallor. Placing a soothing hand on the younger man's forehead, he realised it felt cool and clammy to his touch, as if Tony was going into shock. "How are you doing?"

"Me? 'M just peachy, Boss." Tony forced out.

"The hell you are. What happened?"

In answer, Tony carefully moved his clenched fists away from his chest. For the first time, Gibbs saw the bright blood seeping out from between his fingers, which had already stained his agent's chest and puddled on the floor beneath him. Very slowly Tony uncurled his fingers, so that Gibbs could see the bleeding welts, neatly incised across each palm right to the tips of his fingers.

"Think I must have really really pissed him off," Tony managed. "One hand was for Ziva's escape, the other one was for McGee."

"He used your belt knife." Gibbs realised.

This time they had both been thoroughly searched, all Gibbs' backup weapons were missing, as was their belts, their neck ties, even shoes with their laces were all gone. Realising they had absolutely nothing but their wits and the clothes they stood up in Gibbs was forced to make the best of things. A couple of Tony's wounds were deep enough to need stitches. But without bandages, painkillers or even access to water the only real comfort he could offer was caring. Un-tucking his shirt he used his teeth to rip a few stripes from his undershirt to gently wrap the abused hands, in the hope of keeping the wounds at least partially clean and helping to stem the blood loss.

"Can you sit up?" Gibbs didn't like the way Tony was shivering and lying on the cold, concrete floor wasn't helping things any.

In answer, Tony began to attempt to lever himself up right, using his arms and elbows to avoid putting any weight on his abused hands. Gibbs offered a hand to help him up, supporting him as he walked and settling him as comfortably as he could on the single threadbare couch before sitting next to him.

"You have any idea where we are?"

"Not exactly," Tony looked awkward.

"How much blood did you lose?" Gibbs narrowed his eyes. If DiNozzo had been weak enough to actually pass out then things were worse than he'd thought.

"It wasn't like that," Tony winced, as he showed a fair sized goose egg on the back of his head. "I guess I really do need to learn to keep my mouth shut."

"Only around sociopathic maniacs," Gibbs allowed, as he gently parted the dark hair to inspect the extent of the damage. It didn't look good. Taking some comfort in the familiar ritual checked the reaction of the younger man's pupils. "Most of the time you do a pretty good job of talking your way out of trouble."

"I can only see one of you and I know who the President is," Tony assured him. "Besides, shouldn't I be checking you out? You were out longer than I was."

"How long?"

"When I came too we were in some kind of van. We drove for another fifteen minutes until we got here. So, we could still be pretty close to the docks, or we could be halfway to the next state, depending on whether the guy drove like McGee or you," Tony winced. "Sorry Boss, I know that's not a whole lot of help."

"Not your fault," Gibbs straightened up and began checking out the room, adding without turning back around. "You stay put."

"I'm not the only one who's injured here," DiNozzo pointed out, sounding put out. "And I still have the use of both my legs.

"I know, but those hands of your gotta hurt like hell," Gibbs observed, carefully not looking at the younger man as he spoke. As hard as it was for him to say this had to be even harder to actually here. "When Andrews comes back he's going to pick up where he left off. I want you rested."

"Yeah, I kinda figure he'd want to go another round," Tony admitted. "Boss, I need you to promise me something."

"Yeah?" Gibbs turned to face the younger man, pretty sure he wasn't going to like where this was going. "What's that?"

"We both know it's only a matter of time before Andrews gets bored with slicing me up like Salami, and decides to take things to the next level."

"Ziva and McGee will find us before it comes to that." Gibbs' tone brooked no argument.

"Of course they will," Tony agreed far too easily. "But if they don't. I want you to promise me that you won't get yourself killed on my account."

"Damn it, DiNozzo," Gibbs clenched his fists as he stalked over to where his senior field was sitting unusually meekly on the couch. "You can't ask me to just stand by and watch while that bastard hurts you. You don't have the right."

"The hell I don't," Tony retorted, gathering what little strength he had to surge to his feet and look his boss in the eyes. "I've been with you longer than anyone. I've pulled your ass out of the fire more than once. I didn't spend these last nine years keeping you alive to watch you die because you couldn't control your temper Marine!"

For a long moment, neither man said a word as they locked gazes. Gibbs swallowed hard, as he felt tears of pride well up in his eyes. Part of him couldn't bear the thought of just standing by and letting any kind of harm come to this man whom he loved like his own flesh and blood. But the other part of him knew that if he was to be deserving of the respect of a fine young man like DiNozzo then he also had to honour his courage. Pressing his lips together, the former marine made his decision.

"Alright," He conceded, with a small smile. "I'll try my best not to get dead."

"Good," Tony nodded in relief, before tipping his head on one side to look suspiciously at his Boss. "You do know, that still leaves a whole lot of room for interpretation?"

"Damned straight, it does." Gibbs' tone was uncompromising, as he took a moment to tap the younger man with fond affection under the chin with two fingers, pleased when DiNozzo's anxious expression softened into a smile. "You're still my partner. That makes it my job to have your six."

"Just don't think too badly of me when I start crying like a girl." Tony looked a little awkward.

"Hey," Gibbs put a hand on either side of his face, forcing the younger man to look into his eyes. "You make as much noise as possible. That's an order DiNozzo. The closer Andrews thinks you are too breaking point the better for us. He wants to draw this out as long as possible. That means keeping you alive."

"Glad we agree on something." Tony tried to joke.

Seeing through the younger man's bravardo to his fear Gibbs felt his chest tighten. Andrews had already made his interest in DiNozzo more than plain. It was an unpalatable truth that the younger man would suffer further at his hands before they got out of here. Gibbs might be powerless to prevent that, but he could give Dinozzo ever possible weapon to hold fast against him.

"You even think about dying and I'll kick your ass." He vowed.


	5. Chapter 5

By unspoken agreement Tony and Gibbs sat quietly side by side on the small couch, almost as if they were having one of their numerous dinners in Gibbs' lounge room taking the opportunity to rest up whilst they could. The former marine had never really understood why people said the waiting was the worst part. In his book every second of respite they had before Andrews' inevitable return was a chance to re-group and recover their strength but, of course, it couldn't last for ever.

"No heroics," Gibbs warned, sotto voice as they both stood. "You still don't have my permission to die."

"Likewise," Tony muttered. "You gave me your word, remember?"

The two men had just enough time to exchange an affectionate look, before Andrews strode into the room. If anything he looked even more unbalanced than before, the livid red line around his throat serving only to fuel his madness. This time he didn't waste a second on pontificating or posturing as he jerked his head wordlessly and two gunmen hauled Tony off to the right, holding him immobile, whilst another two took up their positions on either side of Gibbs.

"You know, if you started out with flowers, maybe follow up with a nice dinner, you wouldn't have to kidnap and torture your dates." Tony quipped.

Andrews tipped his head to one side and without warning another of his henchmen hit him hard in the stomach with the butt of his gun, causing him to double up and grunt in pain, still, he took care to school his expression before he stood up, knowing that Gibbs would already be pissed that he was hurting.

"Since you are so eager for my attention," Andrews decided. "I will start with you. Take off your jacket and shirt."

"Just out of curiosity," Tony asked. "What would happen if I said 'no'?"

"Are you so eager to die?" Andrews challenged.

"I've been a Federal Agent for almost nine years," Tony pointed out. "And before that I was a cop. Danger is part of the job. Every time we come in work any one of us might not make it home again. I'm not afraid of dying."

"But perhaps you are afraid of other things?" Andrews suggested. "Sometimes, the dying is the easy part."

"Please," Tony scoffed. "A few years back somebody tried to kill me by infecting me with the plague. You know, that disease from the Middle Ages? Trust me there was nothing easy about almost dying from drowning in your own lungs."

"You are brave," Andrews acknowledged. "I like that. Ultimately, it will make crushing your spirit all the more satisfying."

"I can live with ultimately," Tony shrugged, "It has a nice long ring about it, which will give our friends plenty of time to ride to the rescue and kick your ass."

"Then perhaps there should be no more stalling," Andrew's expression darkened. "Now take off your coat and shirt or I will do it for you."

"Right," Tony looked at his roughly bandaged hands trying to mask his genuine dismay. The blood was still seeping through in spots as his continued movement made it difficult for the welts to close. Actually using his hands to slip out of his coat, undo his cufflinks, un- button his shirt was going to really hurt. And judging from the look on Andrew's face he knew it too. "Well, here goes."

Mindful of his promise Gibbs had managed to hold his peace so far. But looking at the sadistic smile on Andrews face as Tony winced and struggled to pull his injured hands through his well tailored jacket pushed his patience to the limit. When DiNozzo hissed in real pain as he hand caught in the sleeve he simply ignored the possible danger and stepped forward to help.

"Front and centre, DiNozzo." He murmured quietly.

"Boss," Tony flicked an anxious glace at Andrews fearing retribution. But their captor held up a hand when one of the henchmen went to intervene, obviously content to let this little scenario play out.

"You're really got to stop wearing these fancy clothes to work," Gibbs spoke quietly as he helped the younger man out of his jacket. "How many of these have you ruined now?"

Tony sucked in a long, shuddering breath, as he looked into the face of the former marine. Gibbs was acting like this was nothing out of the ordinary. As if this was no different to all those innumerable times before when Tony had been sick, or injured, or ever so slightly drunk and his Boss had put him to bed.

It helped. A lot.

"Maybe, I can get the Director to cover it on expenses." He tried to grin.

"You think Vance is going to spring for Armani on expenses you must have lost more blood than I thought," Gibbs returned, as he carefully folded the jacket and set it aside. "Better find yourself a good dry cleaner."

"You looked at the label." Tony accused. His Boss was not known for keeping up with the latest fashions.

"After all this time working with you, you think I don't recognise Armani when I see it?" Gibbs undid each of his cufflinks and recognising the little skull and crossbones as a present from Abby put those safely in his pocket. "Ready for the next part?"

"My abs aren't so great," Tony admitted with a show of bashfulness, as Gibbs slowly began unbuttoning his shirt. "According to Ziva, I need to tone those up a little more."

"When we get out of here," Gibbs told him. "I'll take you down to the gym and show you how Marines tone up."

"Looking forward to it already, Boss," Tony tried to grin as Gibbs carefully slipped his shirt off his shoulders, folded that and put it on the floor. To their left Andrews stood motionless, watching their interaction with the same enthrallment that Tony reserved for really good internet porn. Tony was just grateful that it was Gibbs' familiar touch on his skin, rather than their captor pawing at him. Even so, he couldn't help tensing at what was to come.

"Easy," Gibbs murmured too soft for Andrews to hear. "Don't give the bastard the satisfaction. First chance I get I'm going to break his damned neck."

It took too damned long.

Too long for Abby waiting nervously in her lab, frustrated by the lack of forensics which would at least allow her to be helpful, as she locked herself in her office, clutched Bart to her chest and looked up each time the elevator chimed, hoping for news of her friends. Too long for Ducky who went about his days haunted by images of when a man like Andrews was capable of. Too long for Palmer, as he thought of Tony's friendship and Gibbs gruff acceptance, too long for Vance who was braced to break bad news to Sec Nav but dreaded telling his wife. And too long for Ziva and McGee following fruitless lead after fruitless lead as they tried to track any properties with a connection to Andrews.

"This is a waste of our time," Ziva protested, as they hit another dead end. "It's like looking for a needle in a haystack."

"_Now_ you go ahead and get that right?" McGee looked at her over the roof of the car. "Tony will be sorry he missed it."

"We have a similar phrase in Hebrew. The words are different but the idea is the same. And Tony likes to feel useful."

"You do it on purpose?" McGee blinked. He'd never suspected that. "Does Tony know?"

Any answer Ziva might have made to that was cut off by the ringing of her cell. Pulling it out she frowned at the unfamiliar number, but accepted the call, thinking that it might be Andrews, never expecting that the voice that would start speaking on the other end would actually be Gibbs.

"Ziva, get McGee to trace this call," Her Boss gave his orders, as if he had just left the building on a coffee run, not been held captive by a maniac for several hours. "Call an Ambulance and whichever team is next up on rotation and meet us at this location."

"Are you alright?" Ziva asked, even as McGee set to work, triangulating the location. "Is Tony alright?"

"We're alive," Gibbs answered cryptically. "Which is more than can be said for Andrews."

"You killed him." Ziva spoke with satisfaction.

"No," There was a noticeable pause before Gibbs continued and when he spoke there was an oddness to his tone that Ziva couldn't place. "DiNozzo did."


	6. Chapter 6

As soon as he finished issuing his instructions Gibbs hung up and stuffed the cell he had found on Andrews body into his pants pocket, With a sigh he looked around at the carnage. Across the room, the four henchmen lay at various angles, three sporting various bullet holes and the fourth stretched out with his head tilted at an un-natural angle, the marks around his throat confirming, without any need for an autopsy, that his neck had been snapped like a twig. A little to the left Andrews lay on his back staring sightlessly upward,s in a pool of his own blood, the ZT 302 handle with the 300 blade sticking out of his neck where the artery had been severed.

_DiNozzo did it._

"You okay?" Gibbs asked without turning.

"Is he still dead?" Tony asked tonelessly.

"Oh yeah."

"Then, I'm just peachy."

At that, Gibbs did look back over his shoulder at his agent huddled on the couch, his expression making it very clear that he didn't believe _that _for a hot second. Not too long ago, he had actually thought Tony was dead. As it was, taking out Andrews had used up all the younger man's reserves. By the time Gibbs had reached his side, Tony had slid to his knees and the only thing keeping him close to upright the death grip on the pillar he was hugging.

"_Boss?" He had looked up, his eyes dark and glittering in his too pale face._

"_It's alright," Gibbs soothed, as he carefully prised him lose and put the younger man's arm over his shoulder, so that he could take most of his weight as he lifted him to his feet, without putting too much pressure on his injured back. "I gotcha."_

_The hoarse sound that came from DiNozzo's throat as he buried his face in his Boss' shoulder was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. Feeling his own emotions rise, Gibbs simply held him, both of them needing the time to gather themselves and process the fact that it was over and they had both survived._

"_You wanna get that pizza now?" Gibbs asked his own voice gruff._

Now Tony simply smiled at his Boss' disbelieving look. It wasn't as if he had actually expected Gibbs to believe he was fine. Not when the man had had to practically carry him over to the couch, or the way the floor was spotted with Tony's blood. The Italian couldn't quite remember but he figured he had been pretty out of things there for a while back there if the way Gibbs kept looking at him was any indication. Casting a dark glance at Andrews' inert body Tony shivered.

"You cold?" Gibbs' voice asked.

"No." Tony replied truthfully.

Gibbs gave him a searching look then went over and retrieved his flannel shirt from across the room, before carefully helping Tony into it. It wasn't a perfect fit and there was a small bloodstained rent in the sleeve where the bullet had scored Gibbs' arm. But it would be softer on his wounds than Tony's jacket and warmer than that fancy shirt. And the action made him feel a little better.

"Don't you want to wear it?" Tony asked.

Gibbs wasn't really surprised at half-hearted nature of the protest. Tony had had a hard time of things. Much as he wanted to do the right thing, he needed this even more than Gibbs and the ex-marine had always been a little proud since he realised that the younger man felt better wearing his stuff. Besides, he was fine in his undershirt.

"You ever known me to feel the cold?" Gibbs cussed slightly as he struggled with the small buttons, before sitting back on his heels, as he had to admit defeat.

"You need to get that looked at," Tony nodded at his Boss' left hand, where the thumb was hanging limply amidst darkening bruises and rapidly increasingly swelling. "I think you've broken your thumb."

"I was in kind of a hurry," Gibbs dismissed that. "You should be lying down."

Tony considered that. His hands still burned from Andrews initial attention. The welts and bruises littering his back and throbbed mercilessly. Small, bright red cigar burns were scatted down his arms. Dark bruises ringed each wrist were he had struggled against the restraints and his muscles ached in protest at being too long strung up as an object of Andrews amusement, now that the adrenaline was beginning to ebb even the thought of moving hurt.

"Couch is too short." He deflected. "And the floor looks kind of scummy."

"Didn't stop you earlier," Gibbs reminded him not unkindly, still he didn't press the issue as he rose slowly to his feet, grimacing at the pain in his knee, as he made sure he had a weapon to hand, as he moved to sit beside his senior field agent. "Gonna be a whole roomful of people here pretty soon, think you can handle that?"

"Sure," Tony ignored the twinge across his shoulders to huddle a little deeper into Gibbs' shirt. "You know me, Boss, always up for a good party."

"Tony," Gibbs sighed. "You don't have to pretend with me."

"Of course not, Boss." Tony agreed a little too swiftly. "But in a minute, this place is going to be crawling with Agents and local LEOs and for all I know the FBI, CIA and any other alphabet who has been waiting to take Andrews down. Because, a guy like that has gotta have some kind of record. And then IA will want to talk to us and probably the Director. And he'll make us go see the departmental shrink. Plus, if we don't get a lid on this fast enough CNN will be all over it, which means Sec Nav breathing down our necks. So, if I want to keep my job, my reputation and my sanity, not necessarily in that order, I just need to hold it together right now."

Gibbs looked at DiNozzo's earnest expression. It all sounded completely plausible. And he had no doubt that once Tony started talking about this, really talking as oppose to the run around he usually gave people when they wanted to know how he was doing, then it wouldn't be easy for him to stuff those emotions back in the box.

Still.

"You sure that's all it is?"

"That's not enough?" Tony raised a brow."Contrary to popular opinion, I value my sanity, not to mention my job, guess my reputation is already a little screwy, getting accused of muder on a regular basis can do that for you. As can having the plague. Being kidnapped by maniacs."

"DiNozzo."

"Shutting up now, Boss."

Gibbs bit the inside of his cheek hard. It never did to forget that DiNozzo was a damned good undercover operative. He might come across as a jackass sometimes, but anyone who was fooled by that was as dumb as the criminals DiNozzo caught. Most of the time, Gibbs could read him pretty well. But he'd be an idiot if he tried to fool himself that he was feeling at the top of his game right now. They both needed to rest up some, get a good square meal, some medical attention and probably most of a bottle of bourbon before they really got into this.

"Hey," He noticed that Tony had tipped his head back and closed his eyes. "You with me?"

"On your six, Boss," DiNozzo didn't move. "Where are we going?"

The tone of total trust in those few words made Gibbs clench his jaw tight as he struggled to control his emotions. Not that he gave a rat's ass just now if DiNozzo caught him bawling, but he knew Tony needed him to be the strong one. Plus, he didn't want the younger man to mistake his feelings for pity. Not when he was actually just so damned furious with himself.

"Only place you're going is straight to Hospital," Gibbs nudged him gently, getting the younger man to open his eyes, so he could check his pupils. He didn't think he had a concussion, but it was obvious, despite his bravardo, that he was completely and utterly spent. "Ambulance is on its way, just gotta hold on a little longer."

"You too," Tony rolled his head around a little so he could fix Gibbs with a look. "I mean, I know you have that whole marine thing going for you. But that bullet wound has got to be infected by now and your thumb must hurt like hell."

They both looked up at the sound of running footsteps and urgent voices. Gibbs instinctively raised the gun, covering the entrance, until he heard Ziva's voice issuing orders. Out of the corner of his eye he didn't miss the way that Tony visibly paled at a possible new threat, holding himself rigid until he picked out his partner's voice.

"Gibbs?" Ziva's voice called down. "Tony?"

"Guess the cavalry is here," Tony began to try to sit up, grimacing as he pulled on muscles which had begun to stiffen. "Do you think they brought Pizza?"


	7. Chapter 7

Tony sat quietly in the back of the Ambulance as his eyes tracked Gibbs. He watched as his Boss, now sporting a sling on his left arm, spoke to Ziva and McGee, dealt with the local LEOs and stopped to have a word to Mark Watkins, whose team would be processing the crime scene. He could barely feel the pain anymore, which he supposed was a good thing, but whatever the Paramedics had given him was making him feel kinda woozy, little snapshots of events were fading in and out without any real connection.

_Ziva brought him water, no Pizza allowed apparently until the medics had checked him out. She held the bottle for him when his abused hands couldn't manage. He remembered doing the same thing for her after the rescue in Somalia. The water tasted better than a glass of Chardonnay._

_McGee dropped a soft blanket around his shoulders. He promised to sneak Pizza into the Hospital. He spoke other words too but Tony didn't really understand those. He wasn't too worried. He didn't understand a lot of the things that came out of McGee's mouth._

_The Paramedic checked him out, working with deft, careful hands, being sure to speak calmly and telegraph his movements. Tony appreciated the effort, the paperwork if he decked him would be a nightmare, but he still flinched when the sharp needle slid beneath his skin._

_Mark Watkins walked past, carrying his ZT knife zipped in an evidence bag. Its blade was dark with Andrews' blood. Tony watched as it was stowed in a box in the back of the NCIS van._

"They took my knife too," Suddenly, Gibbs was beside him climbing into the Ambulance and nodding at the Paramedic. "You'll get it back."

"Not sure, I want it back." Tony said absently.

That brought Gibbs' head around sharply, but Tony was still staring fixedly in the direction of the NCIS van, even as the doors were closed in his face. Nothing in his tone or expression gave a hint of what he was feeling. Gibbs bit the inside of his cheek hard. God knows it made the bile rise in his throat to think his gift had been used to inflict such horrific injuries on the younger man's hands and back. Nobody could actually blame DiNozzo for never wanting to see it ever again.

"I spoke to Ducky. He's going to meet us at the Hospital when he's done here."

"You're coming too?" Tony blinked, shifting his gaze as the doors were closed and the engine started up. "I thought you said the Paramedics fixed you up?"

"Ducky's orders."

"Gibbs," Tony sighed. "I don't need a babysitter. I grew out of that when I was ten. And we still have a case to solve."

"Dawkins already confessed to everything," A combination of the DVD evidence and Dawkins being afraid of being used as the fall guy for Andrews crimes had seen to that. "Watkins can handle things here and Ziva and McGee will keep us in the loop."

"But you're the supervisory special agent, shouldn't you be specially supervising?"

Gibbs frowned. It wasn't like DiNozzo to keep fight him on something like this. He hoped it was nothing more than DiNozzo's own screwed up sense of responsibility, that his own welfare wasn't nearly as important as solving the case. Or maybe it was the drugs, except this wasn't anything like the younger man's usual reactions to medication. And the guilt twisting Gibbs' gut made him wonder if it might be something else.

"DiNozzo," He tried.

"I mean," Tony continued as if he hadn't heard him. "You never leave a crime scene until its been processed. It's got to be a rule."

"Except this isn't our crime scene," Gibbs pointed out. "Or are you forgetting how we got to be the victims in this?"

"Somehow, I don't think that's very likely, I'll probably be having nightmares about it for months," Tony's expression darkend as he held up the pair of bandaged mittens that presently passed for his hands. "And if I forget I've got some really nifty souvenirs."

It only took a few more minutes to get to the Hospital. Or maybe, it was a lot longer. Tony really wasn't sure. He thought he remembered Gibbs vomiting onto a bowl held by the Paramedic, but he was pretty sure he must have hallucinated that part because he had never seen Gibbs sick to his stomach before.

The noise and lights and smell of the Hospital were loud and bright and smelly. Tony turned his head to see Gibbs being led off in another direction and felt a sudden, totally unexpected, surge of panic at being abandoned to the control of strangers. He tried to call him back, but his parched voice was too weak and raspy to carry across the divide.

"Take it easy, honey," One of the nurses attempted to soothe him. "Your Dad is just going to have some X-Rays done to check that dislocated thumb of his isn't actually broken. It won't take long and he'll be right here when you wake up."

There were many things Tony might have said in reply to that. Some of them revolved around the fact that stupid, stubborn, marines deserved to get sick if they were going to downplay broken bones as 'all fixed' with a sling and some wrapping. Others focused on the idea that a nap sounded really good right now, but it would be nice if he could have one of those little masks people used on airplanes and a pair of ear plugs, rather than another go around with a big humungous needle.

There was something else in there too. But the needle got to him before he could examine those thoughts too closely.

Nice. _Floaty._

Consciousness came and went. The rational part of his brain understood that they were keeping him sedated to stop him moving around too much and give his wounds a chance to scab over. But the rest of him was too busy enjoying the feeling of bliss that came from the total absence of pain, so it didn't much care why they were doing it. Time passed and they began to reduce his medication so that he was lucid for short periods. The first time he actually remembered waking Ducky was sitting by his bed.

"My dear boy, how are you feeling?" Ducky's eyes were soft with concern. "A foolish question, I know. You must be feeling quite wretched. Although, we for our part are very glad to have you back with us."

Tony's eyes looked around the room, seeing nothing but an empty bed to his left and a stack of get well cards and flowers on the side table. He shifted uncomfortably; feeling a concern build in his gut that his still heavily medicated brain couldn't quite grasp hold of.

"Try not to move around too much, the stitches need time to do their work and the skin is still very fragile." Ducky counselled. "I've seen many things in my profession but I hope I never become hardened to such abject cruelty especially when it is visited upon two whom I am honoured to count among my dearest friends."

_Gibbs_, Tony realised. That was what was bothering him. He looked at Ducky expectantly, before realising it might be helpful to try and articulate his concern.

"Gibbs?" He managed.

"He is quite well," Ducky assured him. "The bullet only did minimal damage. Unfortunately, his thumb was rather more seriously injured but a few weeks of care and it will be as good as new."

Tony opened his mouth to respond but realised that his eyes were already growing heavy. His mouth drooped and his eyes slid closed as sleep claimed him again before he could explain that he hadn't meant to ask how Gibbs was, but _where_ was he?"

He briefly woke a few more times. Abby came bearing balloons and office gossip. Ziva brought him items of a practical nature and a supply of the designer toiletries he favoured. McGee brought him a portable DVD player and a card shaped like a Pizza with an IOU in it for when he was no longer nil by mouth. Tony struggled to get a word in edgeways as they all talked brightly, determined to keep up his spirits. But as the medicated fog began to lift he noticed an all too common theme.

They all evaded, avoided, or downright ignored any questions about Gibbs.

Then he woke feeling much more like himself. A little stiff and a nagging edge of pain that was uncomfortable but not unmanageable. Best of all he felt much more alert. He fished around in his brain and found fragments of a conversation with his doctor about altering his medication so they could start thinking about physical therapy. So, he supposed the changes were to be expected. Tony waited impatiently for whoever his visitor would be today. This time he would get some answers.

"Agent DiNozzo, I hope you are feeling better?" Vance asked.

"Director," Tony knew better than to try to sit up but he tried anyway. "What are you doing here?"

"Your Doctors tell me moving around too much isn't good for you," Vance observed, helping him lie back. "They also tell me that I must not over tire you and Director of a Federal Agency or not I will not be allowed to exceed my allotted time."

"Really?" Tony smiled he would have liked to have seen that. "You need to watch out for Doris. She looks like a kindly old grandmother but she makes my College Football coach look like a pussy cat."

"I'll bear that in mind," Vance allowed, as he drew up a chair. "As you know, its Agency policy to record after action reports as soon as possible after the event. Given the nature of your injuries there has been an inevitable delay but I was hoping that today you might feel fit enough to tell me what happened."

"Yo're here to get my report?" Tony frowned. Normal procedure stated that the Agent in charge signed off on all the paperwork. He'd been expecting Watkins. "Um, forgive me for asking but why does this merit the Director's personal attention?"

* * *

An - I know some readers are getting impatient to know *what* happened with Andrews, (and I promise Tony's version of that is coming next chapter) but please trust me as it is all relevent and necessary to the plot.


	8. Chapter 8

"Agent DiNozzo," Vance appeared to be considering his response carefully as he powered up a laptop and set it on his knees to type. "I appreciate that you have experienced a very difficult time. It's not my intention to make this any harder on you on that it has to be."

"But you're still not going to answer my question." Tony surmised.

"Not at present," Vance agreed. "No."

"Does this have to do with Gibbs?" Tony pushed.

"Yes."

Tony narrowed his eyes. With that simple word Vance had him, hook, line and sinker. He would answer any questions the Director wanted to ask if it would get him closer to knowing what the hell was going on with Gibbs and Vance knew it. Tony felt his lips quirk in something of a rueful smile. The man might have his own style but he was nobody's fool.

"Alright," He conceded. "What do you want to know?"

"Start with when you arrived at the warehouse."

Tony started speaking, barely noticing the quiet click of the keys as Vance typed up his words. He described their arrival at the docks, the teams' capture, and their captivity in the small basement, up to Andrews' arrival and their abortive escape attempt.

"Why didn't Officer David kill Andrews at that point?" Vance wanted to know.

"There wasn't time," Tony answered with certainty. "Re-enforcements were closing in. If we had waited we would have been boxed in. It made much more sense to try and make a break for it."

"If Andrews were dead his people might well have surrendered."

"Or they might have shot us in retaliation," Tony pointed out. "As it was Ziva and McGee were able to escape."

"And you?"

Tony briefly described the events that had led to him almost making it, only to stop and go back when Gibbs was shot. Without prompting he recalled his concern when the former marine lost consciousness and in a detached voice described Andrews' retribution for their actions as he incised his own knife across his palms with clinical precision.

"At that point you must have wished Agent David had killed him." Vance observed.

"Actually, by that point I was quite looking forward to killing him myself," Tony's eyes glittered darkly. "But to be honest, I was more worried about Gibbs. Even when they manhandled us into the van he wasn't moving and they kept us far enough apart I had no idea how bad his injuries might be."

"What happened when you arrived at the new location?"

Tony recounted his relief when he heard Gibbs' voice. He didn't miss the way Vance straightened slightly when he described the way the former marine had taken care of him and basically ordered him to do whatever it took to keep himself alive. It stood to reason that Vance should have read the senior agent's report by now, so why was he acting like these events came as a surprise?

"Go on." Vance prompted.

"Andrews directed his flunkies to tie me to two uprights and cuff Gibbs to a pipe in my line of sight. It was all about the game to him. He wanted us to watch each other suffer. At first, I thought he was going to whip me but then he produced a knife."

Vance knew that DiNozzo's back was incised with a patchwork of cuts. Some were shallow, some were long, some deep enough to need stitches. None were designed to inflict mortal injury but all were intended to cause as much pain and suffering as possible. He could only imagine how hard that had been to endure.

"I never would have been able to hold out so long if it wasn't for Gibbs," DiNozzo spoke in a low, even, voice. "No matter how bad it got he never flinched or looked away. It made things .. easier."

"And then what happened?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Tony screwed up his face, his lack of clear recall obviously something of a revelation to him. "One minute, Andrews was breathing down my neck slicing me like Salami, the next Gibbs was helping me up off the floor."

Tony didn't feel the least bit guilty that he omitted to mention that Andrews had insinuated that he had further plans to _enjoy _his hostage once he was done hurting him. It hadn't happened therefore it wasn't relevant. And since he was damned sure that Gibbs would do whatever it took to protect his reputation he knew his Boss wouldn't have mentioned it either.

"According to Special Agent Gibbs report, you were the one that killed Andrews." Vance stated.

"I'd lost a lot of blood," Tony recalled. "When I didn't have the energy to scream any more Andrews lost interest, he had his goons cut me down and let me drop where I fell. I remember hearing him ordering his goons to go over and un-cuff Gibbs so he could start on him next. He turned his back on me as if now he had had his fun I just didn't exist any more."

"According to Agent Gibbs' report at this point your injuries were so severe he thought you were dead." Vance told him.

"He did?" Tony blinked, he hadn't realised that. "I guess I was pretty out of things for a while there. But when Andrews turned his back to me. I saw my knife just sitting on the low table and somehow I found the strength to reach up and throw the knife. I didn't see where it landed but I heard the thud as his body hit the floor."

"And where was Agent Gibbs during all of this?"

"I thought he was still cuffed to the pipe, but then I heard him shout my name. There were the sounds of a scuffle, followed by weapons discharge so he must have got free. Next thing I knew Andrews was dead, one of the goons had his neck broken and the other two were full of bullets."

Tony paused as he realised that Gibbs had obviously broken his thumb in order to slip the cuffs and take out one of Andrews goons, before appropriating his weapon to kill the others. He had seen the former Marine do something like that before but then he had got away with just dislocating the digit.

"I guess he was in kind of a hurry." He mused aloud.

"You didn't realise that one of Andrews' men had targeted you with his weapon and was about to take a clear shot?" Vance enquired.

_DiNozzo!_

Tony flashed back as he recalled the anguished tone of Gibbs' desperate cry. Felt once again the pain and blood and adrenalin rapidly being overtaken by sheer exhaustion, so that he couldn't have spoken, couldn't have moved, not even to save his life. He felt his throat tighten and his eyes sting with tears as he realised how close he had actually come to dying.

"No, I din't realise that. I would have been a sitting duck," Tony admitted. "I would like my report to record that Special Agent Gibbs' actions undoubtedly saved my life."

"I see." Vance's tone said he didn't see at all.

Tony felt a tightening in his gut. He was missing something here. He had no idea what it was and that was driving him crazy, because it was something big and it was something to do with Gibbs. Adopting a neutral expression he forced himself to ask politely.

"Is there something wrong with my report, Director?"

"Not exactly wrong," Vance allowed. He studied the younger man for a long moment. "Agent Gibbs clearly thinks very highly of you. If I didn't already know that the way he did an end run around me to bring you back for assignment as agent afloat was a pretty big clue."

Tony winced. He had been afraid of this. He knew Vance hadn't thought much of him coming in. He hadn't thought much of himself back then. Whatever had been said about following ordered the cold, hard, truth remained that Jenny had been killed on his watch. After Somalia he hoped he'd gone some way to redeem himself in the Director's eyes. And after that hostage incident Vance had even offered him his own team. But getting captured and tortured was obviously a blot on his copy book as Ducky might say.

He really hoped Gibbs hadn't stuck his neck out to save his ass over this.

_DiNozzo, no heroics_

"Director, I know it probably wasn't the smartest thing I could have done to antagonise Andrews and now the agency will be a man down whilst I get back to field readiness but I take total responsibility for my actions. Special Agent Gibbs ordered me to do anything to jeopardise my own safety it was my decision to disregard that order."

Vance frowned, something that Tony couldn't quite read flickering through his eyes as he regarded the younger man closely.

"Agent DiNozzo," He asked carefully. "Am I to understand that you think I'm here to administer some kind of reprimand?"

Tony hesitated. Vance's present demeanour certainly didn't suggest that he was here to ream him out. But he wasn't at all clear what else might warrant the Director's presence at his Hospital bedside. He was pretty sure this wasn't a social call.

"I got hurt, Gibbs got hurt. That doesn't usually reflect well in the quarterly figures."

"Tony," Vance's use of his given name surprised him. He couldn't recall the Director ever using it before. "According to Agents McGee and David you demonstrated remarkable heroism in protecting the members of your team at considerable personal risk to yourself. Agent Gibbs recorded in great detail how your actions were a credit to yourself, your training and this Agency. He recommended you for a commendation."

"Oh," Tony considered that. "Then forgive me for asking but why are you here Director?"

"Because I was hoping that your report might give me some insight into why Special Agent Gibbs has offered his resignation, effective immediately." Vance admitted.


	9. Chapter 9

If Vance had any doubts after Somalia that DiNozzo was as good undercover as Gibbs had always said he was, those doubts vanished the moment he announced the team lead's resignation. He had to admit he had been curious how the young agent would react to the news, even when he had assumed that something in DiNozzo's report would shed light on the matter. Now he knew that there were no obvious grounds for Gibbs decision the senior field agent's lack of reaction to such a shocking development was downright impressive.

"Since Gibbs isn't really known for his conversation I'm guessing he didn't bother to offer an actual reason for his resignation?" Tony asked.

Vance studied the younger man carefully. He was well aware he only had a few minutes of his allotted time left. The Doctors has been quite clear that the extent of DiNozzo's injuries meant it would be weeks rather than days before he could resume full field duties. Despite the medication he was on he had to be experiencing a considerable degree of discomfort and fatigue. Not to mention Gibbs decision to walk away without a backward glance had to be a personal blow for his protégé. But none of this was reflected in DiNozzo's tone.

"Not even a hint," Vance acknowledged ruefully. Despite himself he continued to be impressed. "Maybe you'll have better luck?"

The Director didn't miss the way that DiNozzo's eyes narrowed suspiciously at the olive branch before he carefully schooled his expression. When his response came his tone was bland, almost unconcerned, so that many people who had not been good enough to fight their way up to be the first African American Director of NCIS might have missed the steel beneath the velvet vowels.

"A lot of people would view Gibbs as a thorn in their side," Tony tipped his head on one side. "They would be only too glad to sign off on his resignation before he changed his mind."

"Special Agent Gibbs and I have occasionally had disagreements over issues of style," Vance agreed. "But I would be a fool if I didn't acknowledge that his team has the best closure rate in the whole of NCIS. And that he had trained up more good agents than any other team lead. If he can be persuaded to stay I don't want to lose him just yet."

"And you think I can persuade him to stay?" Tony shook his head. "I hate to disappoint, Director but in case you hadn't noticed Gibbs doesn't do anything he doesn't want to."

"That's as maybe," Vance allowed. "But given that his resignation obviously has something to do with this latest situation I'd say it was a pretty good bet that you're the only one who can convince him to change his mind. Consider it a very special assignment. One about which I will be expecting to hear good things."

Tony pondered that as Vance finally took his leave. His assignment might be a little easier to complete if he had the first clue what bug had crawled up Gibbs ass, or if he wasn't lying in a Hospital bed with an IV in his arm and a catheter going where those things always went literally tethering him to the bed. Not to mention the cocktail of drugs still swimming around his blood stream and fogging his thought process.

Still, never let it be said that Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo ever backed down from a challenge. He could do this. All it would take was a little ingenuity and a bit of creative thought. Sooner or later all of the MCRT would come to see how he was doing, all Tony had to do was wait for the mountain to come to Mohammed and using his unique interrogation style he would soon have all the answers he needed.

Admittedly, things didn't get off to the greatest of starts.

"Honestly Tony," Palmer assured him. "If I had any idea what was going on, I'd tell you. All I know is that Dr Mallard keeps muttering to himself under his breath and Abby hasn't played her music in days. I can't believe that Special Agent Gibbs would really leave. I mean, not like before when he went to Mexico but forever."

"Don't concern yourself Palmer I still appreciate you dropping by. And thanks for the loan of the e-book," Tony really was grateful. It would be a while before his bandaged hands could flex enough to turn the pages of a normal book, but his thumbs could master the e-book loaded with crime novels with ease. "I might not be able to work a real case but at least I can give my brain a bit of a workout."

His next visitor was Dr Mallard but it didn't take more than a few moments of conversation for Tony to work out that despite being one of Gibbs oldest and closest friends the genial ME was as much in the dark about the former marine's motives as he was.

"Did Andrews hurt him more than he let on?" Tony worried. "I mean, I was pretty out of it for a while there. I might have missed something."

"Oh no," Mallard was quick to reassure. "I can assure you that whilst Jethro's battle scars are uncomfortable and somewhat inconvenient neither the bullet wound nor the broken thumb is any bar to him continuing with his career as a field agent. Physically, he will be as good as new in a matter of weeks. I am afraid you will have to look elsewhere for Jethro's reasons than his present injuries."

"Right," Tony sighed. Not that he wished any illness or incapacity on Gibbs, but at least it would be an understandable reaction. "Thanks for the Walkman. I haven't seen one of the cassette types since I got one for Christmas as a teenager but those Jazz tunes are totally timeless."

Next at his beside was McGee who spent almost all of his allotted visiting time setting up the portable DVD player he had brought with him, running through the list of movies choices he had shopped for, (including with a degree of thoughtfulness neither of them chose to draw attention to Quantum of Solace) and avoiding making any kind of eye contact whilst claiming total ignorance on the topic of Gibbs resignation.

"C'mon McGee," Tony insisted. "Can't you let those fingers of yours do the walking? There must be something in Gibbs' report or his file or something that could explain this."

"I'm sorry Tony there really isn't." McGee looked awkward.

"You already looked," Tony realised, as he recognised the source of McGee's body language. The younger man was feeling bad that he didn't have any leads to offer. Tony was proud that the younger agent had had the cojones to hack into Gibbs personal information without being specifically ordered to do so because he knew his partner would ask. Also, it wasn't as if his efforts had been entirely in vain. "Chin up, McSnoopy at least we know Gibbs isn't defecting to the KGB or going undercover for some super secret mission."

"I suppose so," McGee brightened at the positive endorsement, even as he wished he could do more to help his friends. "I haven't forgotten that I still owe you that Pizza."

"And I'll collect." Tony promised. "We'll get the team over and make a night of it. Maybe, even play a little poker."

"Are you still going to be living at Gibbs' even if he actually goes through this resignation?" McGee wondered.

"He's not going to resign," Tony was adamant. _Not again_. "Not on my watch."

"How do you plan on stopping him?" McGee wanted to be reassured but even so. "I mean this is Gibbs we are talking about."

Frankly Tony didn't have a clue. But he wasn't about to admit that when the future of their team hung in the balance. So he pasted on his best DiNozzo smile and looked confidently at his younger partner.

"Trust me, Probie wan Kenobi."

Ziva was next. He woke from a nap to find a flat box on his nightstand and her pacing the room in obvious frustration as she muttered in Hebrew to herself. Tony could only recognise the odd word but that didn't stop him from getting the full gist of her feelings.

"So, I'm guessing you don't know why Gibbs has decided to resign either?" He hazarded sleepily.

"He will say only that it is the right decision," Ziva turned to face him. "That it is time. I understand that this is his choice to leave. But why is it so sudden? Why is it time today when it was not time yesterday, or last week?"

"Well, I know lots of reasons it isn't. But why it is, well that's the million dollar question."

Tony went to scrub wearily at his face, only to scowl at his bandaged hands. Suddenly, a memory flashed before his eyes and he was back in that Ambulance, high on pain killers as he surveyed his mitten like hands with a kind of hysterical glee as he babbled on about his likely nightmares and nifty scarring. A cold sweat swept over him, as he realised he had actually said those things out loud.

He supposed it was wrong to be glad that Gibbs had been too busy throwing up to notice he was being an ass. Or had his Boss started throwing up after he stopped talking?

"You are still tired," Ziva mistook his preoccupation for fatigue as she headed for the door. "I will let you get some rest. When you feel better I will help you practice with your gift, it will take a little time for you to get used to the new weight and balance."

"You bought me another knife?" Tony craned his neck a little to look closer at the ZT box. "I don't want to sound ungrateful or anything but what happened to my old one?"

"According to Gibbs you have no wish for it to be returned to you after it has been processed through evidence." Ziva advised him, as she left.

_Not sure I want it back._

With a jolt of sick realisation Tony's own words drifted back through his medication fogged brain. Had he actually said that? Had he said it out loud? Had he said it out loud when Gibbs could actually hear him? But the former marine couldn't have thought he actually meant that, could he?

Searching his crazy mixed up recollections in earnest now, Tony remembered the way that Gibbs had tried and failed to draw Andrews' attentions to him rather than his people. The way the team lead had been the one to order Ziva to let go of Andrews before he was dead so they could move out together, the likelihood that he might have escaped with Ziva and McGee if he hadn't gone back to help his Boss.

After all of that he wasn't sure what would have been hardest for his Boss. That he had had to stand by and watch all the things Andrews had visited upon his senior field agent, or that fact that Gibbs hadn't even been able to keep his word to take Andrews out himself.

And he had just blundered right on in with his big mouth and made things worse.

"Hey Tony," Sometime later Abby's voice rang out as she shouldered the door open, struggling to look overt the top of the load she was clutching which comprised a hot pink pillow, a couple of board games, a large bunch of balloons and a small stuffed Alsatian dog. "I'm sorry I haven't been by all day, I had to wait for Major mass spec to finish running a whole bunch of tests and then I had to shop for you, because you know you're actually awake now so it would be rude not to bring gifts not to mention you get really cranky when you're bored and then there was this woman in line in front of me who was taking forever but I'm here now so what game shall we play first?"

Dropping her cargo on the night stand she turned to look at the bed, only then noticing somewhat to her surprise that it was unoccupied.

"OK hide and seek wasn't exactly what I had in mind." She called.

Frowning, she realised that the IV was hanging loose and the catheter was lying discarded. Trying not to panic she went to check the bathroom and when knocking and calling got no response she cautiously entered only to find the small windowless room totally deserted.

"Why am I ever worrying about the window?" She wondered. "We're on like the gazillionth floor here. Tony got all sliced and diced not bitten by a radioactive spider. Maybe, he just went for some tests or something."

It took some time ascertain that Tony hadn't gone for any tests. Nor despite not having spoken to his doctor or any of the nurses he was actually no longer in the Hospital. When Abby saw the CCTV footage of DiNozzo, dressed in too large sweats, ugly white trainers and a doctor's coat hailing a cab, she did the only thing she could think of. She called Gibbs.

"Bossman, I know you're supposed to be on sick leave or vacation or hiatus or some other not here thing but its Tony. He's gone AWOL from the Hospital. He didn't even sign himself out AMA he just left and he's still really hurting and his doctors are saying all these bad things and we don't know where he is."

"Relax Abs," Gibbs voice reassured. "DiNozzo's right here with me."


	10. Chapter 10

AN – Huge apologies for the long delay in updating, I fell down some stairs at work and ended up with an enormous black eye, a DiNozzo sized concussion and five stitches. Took a little while to get my head on straight but promise the next chapter is almost done and won't take nearly so long.

* * *

Gibbs sat alone in his basement, an untouched glass of bourbon in his hand as he looked at the space where a boat always used to be. He wondered if he should start another one, although, in the circumstances, perhaps he needed a bigger project. Inactivity was not a state he had much experience with, even in his darkness days he had raged, fought, drank, done _something_. Except, this time there was nothing to rage against. This was his choice, his decision.

It was the right one.

Didn't mean he had to like it.

He stayed put as he heard the front door open and close. He figured it was just Jack coming back from the market and the way the two of them had been arguing back and forth since he had announced his decision to resign from NCIS he figured they could both use a little space. He had already minced and seasoned the steak for burgers and taken the buns out of the freezer to thaw. He would go up and start dinner in a while. Maybe, even make a salad.

_Step, pause, step, pause._

Gibbs looked up in surprise at the sounds of painfully laboured progress.

_Step, step, pause, step._

Gibbs frowned. If f Jack had had some kind of fall at the market surely he would have called out for help? Besides, it didn't sound anything like his father's measured tread. It didn't sound like anyone he knew. And yet there was something familiar about it.

_Step, pause, step, step._

As realisation hit Gibbs had put his glass aside and was up and moving without conscious thought. He double timed it up the stairs, before wrenching the door to the basement open and crossing in three swift paces, to support his senior field agent as he tried to make his painfully slow progress along the hallway, using his forearm as a brace against the wall, to avoid putting any pressure on his damaged hands.

"What the hell were you thinking?" He demanded, even as he took DiNozzo's weight by draping his arm over his shoulder and half dragged and half carried the younger man towards the couch. "It's not bad enough that Andrews did a number on you? You tryin' to finish the job?"

"That wasn't exactly in the game plan," Tony managed, his jaw clenched tight against the waves of agony coursing through his body with each step, before he lowered himself gingerly into a sitting position. "Course, I didn't exactly have a game plan."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes as he looked his agent over, not missing the tell tale sheen on sweat on his too pale skin. The way he held himself stiffly, perched on the very edge of the cushions to avoid any contact on his damaged back. Or how he was desperately fighting to try and bring his shallow and rapid breathing under control. He looked like he might keel over any minute.

"You sign yourself out AMA?"

"Too much paperwork," Tony dismissed that. "I figured Rule 18 would cover it."

"Yeah well, you figured wrong," Gibbs' tone was curt as he dug out his phone. His first instinct was to drag DiNozzo back to the Hospital himself. But it was obvious that his agent was only just holding onto consciousness. He needed to be transported lying down and probably with oxygen. "Your ass belongs in the Hospital."

"I'm fine," Tony vetoed that. "I just need a minute."

"What you need is an Ambulance!" Gibbs tone was clipped with barely contained fury. What the _hell_ had his agent been thinking? "Damn it, DiNozzo, I've seen corpses with better colour than you."

"Vance came to see me," Tony looked up at him. "He said some stuff. None of it made any sense to me. They've had me on these really kick ass drugs, made me pretty out of things for a while. Hell, Vance probably wasn't even there. The whole thing was probably just some really weird drug induced hallucination."

Gibbs clenched his fists tight as he tried to fight down his fury. You didn't have to be a trained investigator to work out what Vance had said. Damn the man for trying to play both of them over this. He had asked the Director to hold fire until DiNozzo was out of the Hospital. Now he had a serious pissed senior field agent on his hands who was in no fit shape to have this conversation.

"Its true then," Tony's face was expressionless, as he drew his own conclusions from his Boss' body language. "Shame. I liked the hallucination theory better."

"You figured it was a hallucination you wouldn't be here."

He never thought he would rue the day that DiNozzo was such a great investigator. He would bet that he had already spoken to Ducky, not to mention, Abby, Ziva and McGee. Now every line of pain around his eyes, each careful movement spoke of the need to know, which had fired his adrenalin, hauling his battered body half way across town to find the answers they hadn't been able to give him.

"C'mon Boss," Tony held his gaze. You don't want to resign. We already danced this dance once before and it didn't work out so well back then."

"You did a good job," Gibbs reminded him, even as he avoided the actual topic. "You kept the team together like I trained you to do. Your closure rate was one of the best in the agency. What part of that didn't work out so well?"

"Well apart from the obvious," Tony wasn't here to talk about his own perceived failings, so he totally missed the way Gibbs' eyes narrowed at his blithe dismissal. "You forget the part where spending your days building Franks hot tub was numbing your brain? You're not exactly the retiring type, Boss."

"Paperwork sitting on Vance's desk says otherwise."

"About that," Only people who knew DiNozzo really well would realise that the genial smile masked an iron hard intent. "You couldn't have found a better way to break the news. Because, I gotta say I figured I deserved better than to hear about your decision from Vance."

"He wasn't supposed to tell you." Gibbs pointed out.

He was simply trying to explain the situation. It was only as the words were out of his mouth that the former marine realised his agent was bound to take them the wrong way. Sure enough, Tony's eyes flashed and his tone took on a scathing edge.

"Oh well, that makes everything just _peachy_. Damn it, Gibbs, I've worked with you longer than anyone. I've been your senior field agent most of that time. I have _always_ had your six. You don't just get to walk away from this. Not after last time. When were you going to tell me? Once you had signed off on the paperwork already? When anything I might say couldn't make a blind bit of difference? Damn it Gibbs, even Palmer knew before me!"

"You figure I owe you an explanation?" Gibbs demanded.

"No," Tony allowed. Any debts between him and Gibbs had long since been repaid ten times over in every act of heroism on the job and each individual out of hours act of friendship. They were more than square. Meeting his Boss' eyes he softened his tone. "But I'd like one."

"And I'd like you to stop bleeding all over my couch."

"Why now?" Tony arched a brow.

"It was tine." Gibbs evaded.

Stalling for time he headed into the kitchen and pulled out a thick stemmed glass DiNozzo could balance between his bandaged hands and filled it with water. Then he shook out a couple of pills into a beaker and brought both items back to the sofa where he set them on the table in front of his agent without a word. Tony gave him a grateful look, for his thoughtfulness as he managed to throw down the pills with a water chaser without assistance. Still, Gibbs knew he would be fooling himself if he hadn't anticipated DiNozzo had also used the time to re-group.

Sure enough.

"You didn't head for the hills when we lost Kate and you stayed on after Pacci was murdered," Tony pointed out. Contrary to what some people might think he had always understood the whole Mexican hiatus. It wasn't as if Tony hadn't had his own reasons to blot in the past and to his mind Gibbs reliving the loss of his wife and daughter far outstripped anything he had needed to run from. But this time Gibbs motives evaded him. "Not even Jenny's death made you hang up your spurs. And when Vance spilt the team you didn't go gracefully, you stuck around like a thorn in his side until he gave you what you wanted."

"Vance tell you he agreed to let you lead the team?" Gibbs tried to deflect.

"What if I said I didn't want the promotion?" Tony countered.

"Clock's ticking."

They both knew the senior agent had a point. Right now, Tony had the edge over almost all comers with both youthful vigor and a proven track record on his side . But in a few years time there would be other younger agents eager for promotion sharpening their CV's. If he waited too long he might miss the boat altogether.

"Just out of curiosity, how did you swing that?" Tony wondered. "I mean, I'm not exactly his flavour of the month?"

"I didn't do anything." Gibbs fixed the younger man with a level look.

If DiNozzo couldn't work out that his taking the lead in the operation to avenge Ziva, not to mention his handling of that high profile hostage situation when Vance had offered him his own team, not to mention his exemplarity record as Agent Afloat had gone a long way to forcing Vance to re-evaluate his first impressions of the younger man then he wasn't the investigator Gibbs knew him to be.

"Oh," Tony tipped his head on one side as he realised that. "That's actually kinda nice, or sorta creepy. Depending on how you look at it. Still, doesn't answer my question though."

Gibbs had been afraid of that.

"You look like crap. You're already looking at a couple of weeks of sick leave," He pointed out. "And the same again riding a desk, you really want to push that envelope any further?"

"The way I look at it. If you really wanted me to get my ass back to the Hospital, all you had to do was tell me why you decided to resign, seems like you're not keen on doing that. Which makes me think it's something you don't want me to know."

Gibbs sucked in a breath, trying to reign in his own emotions, even as he sought to find an argument that would hold sway with his agent. He needed to get DiNozzo back to the Hospital ASAP and certainly before the inquisitive younger man ferreted out his actual motivation, which meant he had to throw him a really meaty bone to get him off the scent.

"I thought you were dead," He spoke frankly.

"I wasn't."

"Yeah, well it was pretty hard to tell under all that blood." Gibbs snapped.

"It's hardly the first time you've thought I was dead, blown up, missing, held hostage, take your pick. You've never resigned before."

"You ever think that maybe I didn't feel like I was the one responsible all those other times?"

"Actually no. You always feel responsible. Even for stuff that's really not actually your fault. What makes this time any different?"

"Andrews would never have laid a finger on you if I'd let Ziva kill him when she had the chance." Gibbs blamed himself.

"And if we'd waited for his goons to close in then maybe Ziva and McGee wouldn't have got away." Tony countered. "Can you imagine what Andrews would have been like with Probie? Would you have wished him on Ziva after Somalia?"

"You think it was any easier for me to watch him lay his god damned hands on you?" Gibbs emotions rose to the surface at the memory of the man who had saved his life more times than he could count being at the mercy of that bastard. "You could have got away too if you hadn't had to come back for me."

Gibbs hated the fact that it was his failing that had put his senior field agent in such danger. If only he had been faster, they might all have got away. The slight bullet graze across his arm was nothing compared to the torture DiNozzo had been put through. The smell of DiNozzo's blood in the air, the way the younger man's stared unblinking as he tried to disassociate himself from the pain, Andrews mocking laughter as he enjoyed what he was doing. Steeling himself he admitted the unspeakable truth.

"He used the knife I gave you to cut you."


	11. Chapter 11

AN - Thank you to everyone for their kinds words and thoughts and your patience in sticking with this story. Hope you enjoy the quick update! Oh and if there is any particularly inspiring Gibbs and DiNozzo goodness in tonight's season finale in the US please (please!) feel free to PM me with spoilers as it'll be a while before I can see it and I'm dying to know.

* * *

It wasn't that Tony didn't understand.

He knew exactly how seriously Gibbs took his responsibility for his people and he himself had experienced first hand during his time in charge what it was like to have your partners, your friends, people as close as family, put their lives utterly in your hands. That level of trust was both a priceless gift and an enormous burden. Watching Andrews use the gift he had selected and had engraved as a mark of their friendship to torture his agent would quite literally twist the knife for Gibbs.

It was just that Tony's gut was telling him that wasn't all there was to it.

"And I used that same knife to kill him." Tony pointed out. "Just the way you trained me."

"You learnt how to throw knives at camp," Gibbs reminded him brusquely. It seriously grated with him that DiNozzo snrs benevolent neglect in warehousing his kid in boarding schools and summer camps had done more to save both their lives than anything the former marine had managed to instil in him over the years. "I can't take the credit for that."

"You think I could have held out that long if you hadn't been there?" Tony demanded. "Every time Andrews lit into me, keeping my focus on you helped me keep it together."

Gibbs jaw tightened. Andrews had lost interest once Tony had all but passed out. If the younger man hadn't held out for so long then maybe he wouldn't be sporting 52 stitches in his back right now. For once, his agent's courage and tenacity didn't feel like such a good thing.

"C'mon Gibbs," Tony pressed. "This is hardly my first go around being tortured. And it wasn't as if it was even such a big deal. A few cuts, a couple of bruises. I've had worse than this playing football."

"This isn't some damned sporting injury," Gibbs voice rose. Not such a big deal? It was all he could do not to throttle the younger man with his own hands. "When I think what might have happened.."

"We've been in tight spots before," Tony protested "So, long as we both live to fight another day that's all that matters, right?"

Gibbs felt himself loosing his grip on his last vestige of control. He hadn't slept well since this whole mess had started. Even when his exhausted body fell into a restless sleep, he was jerked awake, soaked in cold sweat and breathing heavily from his nightmares. He had barely been able to keep anything down. Eating only to placate Jack and then rushing to the head as his stomach rebelled. And the sight of senior field agent looking gaunt and pale wasn't helping matters.

"This is different!" He thundered.

"How?" Tony's voice rose in return. "You've watched divers search open water for my body. You've marked off the days I was missing so long that everyone else had given me up for dead. You've seen me drowning in my own lungs and ordered me to live. You've walked onto a crime scene and breathed the charred remains of what you thought was my corpse into your lungs. And you've never walked away," In his frustration, he surged to his feet determined to look his mentor in the eye. "What the _hell_ is so differ .."

The pain hit him like a physical wave, robbing him of speech, of movement, even of conscious thought. A small detached part of his mind realised that the sudden movement hadn't been his brightest idea, given that he still hadn't been officially discharged from the Hospital and the drugs and adrenalin which had brought him this far were both beginning to wear off. Robbed of sound, he could do nothing as he body betrayed him except think about how much it was going to hurt when he hit the deck.

"DiNozzo!"

The disembodied sound came from a long way off. But the strong hands that caught him firmly by the arms, halting his descent, were near, right here and very real. For a moment, Tony just clung to his Boss as he struggled to get his feet under him and his breathing and emotions under control.

"Easy," Gibbs breath ghosted across his ear. "Take all the time you need."

"Hurts." Tony managed.

"Yeah," Gibbs tone was tight. "I think that's a given."

"Alright," After some indeterminate amount of time during which the room span and Gibbs was pretty much his only anchor Tony finally felt able to begin to pull himself together as he took deep breaths. "I'm okay. I'm doing fine. I'm good to go."

"Only place you're going is straight to bed."

"Boss, please," Right now, Tony really didn't care if he sounded like a whiney kid. Andrews had taken his own emotional toll on him and the last thing he wanted was to be shipped right back to the Hospital, with its nasty starched sheets, unpleasant smells, and long, lonely periods of isolation with just the occasional nurse or strictly regulated visitor to relieve the feelings of abandonment. "Don't make me go back to the Hospital."

Gibbs swallowed hard as he felt Tony's grip tighten on his arms with enough force to leave bruises. And he hated DiNozzo snr all over again for raising his son like some kind of inconvenience baggage. He knew that Ducky would probably have something to say on the matter but right now he was going with his gut. And that said he needed to keep DiNozzo where he could see him before he got it into his head to do any more damned fool things.

"You forget you've got a perfectly good room here?" He spoke gruffly.

"Knew there was a reason I loved you, Boss." Tony almost sagged with gratitude.

"You eat what I tell you. Take your meds and don't move without my permission, plus we both have to get Ducky on board," Gibbs set out the ground rules as he helped his agent towards the guest room where Tony had been living for the last few months. "Understood?"

"Crystal, Boss," Tony watched as Gibbs pulled back the comforter on his bed before sitting down on the blissfully comfortable Egyptian cotton sheets and taking strength from the familiar and comforting surroundings. "I'll be good."

"You get dressed in a hurry?" Gibbs asked as he bent down to unlace DiNozzo's shoes.

If his physical symptoms weren't already enough of an indication then the outfit the Italian had somehow managed to assemble was proof that DiNozzo was no where near the top of his game. The Navy blue sweats were much too short in the legs. The Doctors coat was much too large across his bare chest and the ugly white sneakers were all a world away from the well cut suits and casual elegance of the Italian's usual elegance.

"You want to pick now to start noticing what I wear?" Tony joked tiredly.

Gibbs crossed to the dresser and busied himself with digging out an old T-shirt washed to buttery softness which would put the least amount of pressure on the younger man's healing wounds and a clean pair of underwear as he responded.

"I always notice."

"You do?" Tony's tone managed to be both sceptical and hopeful.

"Uh huh," Gibbs spoke casually as if it was no big deal, as he crossed back over and helped his agent change with the ease of long practice. "You come to work in chinos and old sweatshirt things are good. You turn up sporting a new suit, new tie, new shirt, things are bad, add in new shoes and I begin to think you've been accused of murder again."

"Oh," Tony blinked, as Gibbs swung his feet around so he could settle on his stomach. "You really do notice."

"I need to return any of these to their original owners before you get arrested for a different kind of felony?" Gibbs held up the mis-matched wardrobe.

"No, I got the coat from a first year medical student when I gave him the answer his Boss wanted to hear. The sweats I got for the price of a kiss from the little old lady at the table sale raising money for the children's ward in the lobby since I told her I was a really worthy cause and I traded the portable DVD player Probie lent me for the shoes."

Gibbs frowned at his own miscalculation Seemed like DiNozzo wasn't so far off his game after all.

"I'll buy McGee a replacement," DiNozzo assured him taking his frown as disapproval. "And I already told the little old lady I'd make a donation to the children's ward."

"I'll take care of it." Gibbs surprised him.

If it wasn't for him DiNozzo wouldn't have been running about all over the place taxing his strength in the first place. The least he could do was make sure he wasn't out of pocket as well.

"How did you get across town?" He asked. "You use that famous charm of your on the cab driver too?"

"In a manner of speaking," Tony allowed. "I went down to the Emergency room and spoke to a couple of cops from Metro I know who had just finished interviewing some guy who was attacked in a bar and persuaded them to make a little detour on their way back to the station. I'll buy them a beer next time I see them."

Anything Gibbs might have said to that was curtailed by the trilling of his phone demanding his attention.

"Guess someone's finally noticed you're missing."

Checking the calling ID he made a face as he pressed the button to take Abby's call. Gibbs gave a reassuring pat to his shoulder before moving slightly way from DiNozzo he spoke quietly to her, reassuring her that Tony was safe and if not exactly well, at least not in any immediate danger.

"You can see him tomorrow, Abs. He's not going to be doing anything between now and then except sleeping."

Tony shot him a grateful look. He loved Abby but he didn't think he had the strength to handle her particular brand of caring right now. Recent events had taken more out of him than he really wanted to admit and even lying down flat his back was throbbing. Trying to relax he focused on the clean, fresh, smell, of his Egyptian cotton sheets, sinking a little into the blissfully comfortable duck down pillows and relishing the familiarity of the hand made wooden furniture and walls painted in restful neutral colours.

"I told Abby to ask Ducky to swing by with your medication." Gibbs voice broke into his reverie. "You'd better be ready for him to tear you off a strip for taking off like that."

"Didn't take off," Tony pointed out. "Just came home."

Gibbs felt his throat constrict at the simplicity of that statement. In many ways this was the first real home Tony had had since his mother had died. Still, he wasn't sure that argument was going to cut much ice with the usually genial ME, especially not if DiNozzo's jaunt across town had done anything to set back his recovery.

"Doesn't seem like you've popped any of your stitches," He advised. "But don't go thinking that's going to be enough to get you off the hook."

"I'll probably just apologise," Tony decided. "Unlike you, Ducky likes apologies."

Gibbs opened his mouth to answer that when he heard the front door open and close, followed almost immediately by his father's voice calling his name. The two men exchanged a quick, guilty look as they both realised that the reaction of the elderly ME might well be the lesser of two evils. Resigning himself to the inevitable Gibbs decided he might as well get it over with.

"In here, Dad."

"What are you doing in here?" Jackson asked as he appeared in the doorway, a frown creasing his features. "More to the point, what's he doing here? And don't either of you go telling me that any Doctor worth his salt let him out of the Hospital. Because he looks like death warmed over."


	12. Chapter 12

AN - I am beginning to think I am totally cursed. On Thurs I took another fall at work and ended up in the ER yet again. Seriously. No stitches this time but steri strips, super glue and antibiotics which are making me feel really nauseous, blah. You actually couldn't make it up. Even the people in ER were going "and how did you get that other bruise on your eye" and I'm going "oh that was the other week with the stitches" So, huge thanks to everyone who PM'd me about the season finale - living in the UK means most download sites don't work for me but between you all I got all the detail I could hope for so many many thanks. Hope you enjoy the new chapter - on holiday this week so aiming to get the next one up soonest.

* * *

"It wasn't his fault."

When Leroy and Tony both responded, speaking at the same time, Jackson Gibbs merely raised a brow as he two his boys glared at each other. Curious to see how they would resolve this he held his peace. In Stillwater he had seen right off how Tony jumped to when Leroy gave out his orders. At first he had been kinda uncomfortable with that idea right until he had seen Tony get in his boy's face. He had been making his way back from the store room when he had overheard the two of them talking.

"_You spend a lot of time sweeping this floor when you were a kid?" Tony was asking._

"_Some."_

_When Leroy didn't look up or even pause in his self-imposed task Jack had figured that the young fella would simply take the hint and go find some other way to pass the time. Back then he didn't know that Leroy's one word answer was more than enough encouragement than to hitch himself up to sit on the counter and start to juggle a couple of apples, keeping his focus on the fruit as he continued the conversation. _

"_Is it helping? Because, I thought maybe you would be missing the boat."_

_The sound of bristles on wood came to an abrupt halt as Leroy leant on the handle to throw an incredulous look at his senior field agent. Tony blinked at the laser sharp glare levelled in his direction and then made a big show of putting the apples very carefully back in their basket and jumped back down off the counter in order to approach his Boss but his tone when he continued showed no trace of nervousness. _

"_You know, because of the way you use it to help you think, keep your head in the game, make sure you don't lose focus."_

"_You saying my head isn't in the game, DiNozzo?"_

_Leroy's tone was dangerously quiet but to Jack's surprise the young fella didn't seem to notice. Or if he did, he didn't seem to care about the inherent threat as he continued to press his point home._

"_C'mon Boss, it's your home town. You have a lot of history with the people here and you haven't been back in a real long time. That's got to be a little distracting." _

"_It's a case, DiNozzo, pure and simple." Leroy had dismissed his concerns and resumed sweeping, as if firmly signalling the subject was closed._

_This time Jack wasn't at all surprised when Tony didn't take the hint, although the way the younger man strode purposefully across the room, right into his boy's face and pulled the broom straight out of his hands wasn't at all what he expected._

"_Damn it, Boss, this isn't just another case. You know these people. You went to school with them, they shop in your Dad's store and one of them is going to turn out to be a murderer and it might not be the one the you want it to be and you'll still have to do your job and arrest then in front of their family, their friends, maybe even their kids and you can't tell me that's not eating at you."_

"_It doesn't make a blind bit of difference how I feel about it!" Leroy raised his voice. "I'm here because I have a job to do and however it turns out I'll do it same as always!"_

"_I know you will, Boss," Tony assured him, total and utter faith in his tone. "I just wanted to be sure you knew it too."_

"_You tryin' to play me, DiNozzo?" Leroy's tone was gruff, but Jack could swear that he sounded amused, maybe even a little proud._

"_Wouldn't dream of it, Boss," Tony's easy dismissal spoke of both respect and enduring affection. Then he hesitated and for the first time looked genuinely nervous and unsure of his ground as he continued. "Can't be an easy thing working the case and trying to mend fends with your old man at the same time."_

_Jack had winced and actually taken a step forward ready to intervene before Leroy got it into his head to give the well meaning young fella the sharp edge of his tongue. Back then he hadn't quite understood it when Leroy's expression had instead softened into something like sympathy and understanding. His boy hadn't said a word, but the way he had cuffed Tony fondly across the back of the head, his eyes soft with affection as he had held the young fella's gaze before slipping his hand down to give his neck a reassuring squeeze had spoke volumes. _

It had been Jack's first glimpse into the complex relationship between these two There was both a mutual respect and underlying affection. It was almost but not quite like the relationship between father and son. Tony obviously loved and obeyed Leroy like a loyal and dutiful son. But he was also wasn't afraid to step up and tell his boy when he was out of line and it was a testament to how highly Leroy regarded the younger man's opinions that he would let him tear a strip of him.

Jack was pretty sure that both men knew where the lines were. Oh, he had no doubt that they had both crossed 'em a time or two. Leroy had likely been too darned stubborn or pig headed. The young fella had probably been a might too hot headed and made some idiot mistake. But both in Stillwater and here in DC he had been privileged to see how these two interacted not as co-workers but as family and he knew that as much as Tony respected his Boss he wasn't afraid of him. So he wasn't entirely surprised when it was the younger man who argued his case first.

"I was the one who jumped ship, pulled out the IV, removed my catheter and begged, borrowed and bartered for my natty wardrobe."

"You actually pulled out your own catheter?" Jackson couldn't help but wince.

"I knew what I was doing." Tony assured him. "Flirting with the pretty nurses is one of the upsides of being hurt on the job."

Jackson gave a rueful shake of his head. He admired the younger man's gumption in wanting to look on the bright side of things. The good Lord knew he had flirted with a pretty nurse or two in his time. Still, he also knew his son and he would bet his store that Leroy wasn't about to find anything good about his agent being in the Hospital. Glancing over his expected to see him giving one of those infamous glares so he was pretty taken aback to see his usually stoic offspring actually flinch at Tony's words.

On second thoughts, Leroy had always been one to want to shoulder responsibility for things that weren't rightly his fault. He'd been just the same when his mother had died. Jackson was pretty sure he had found a way to blame himself for whatever had happened to Tony. Most likely wrongly, as it didn't seem like the young fella harboured any degree of resentment, if the way he had high tailed it back here as soon as he was able, was any indication.

"That's one of the upsides huh?" Jack tipped his head on one side. "There a whole lot of others?"

"One or two," Tony considered that. "Well, probably just the one."

Tony's words gave very little away, but the tell tale pink ting that stung his ears, as he threw an almost shy glance towards his Boss spoke volumes. Inwardly, Jackson puffed up with satisfaction as he saw the light of understanding soften his son's features as Leroy realised that the younger man saw spending one on one time at home with him as the other upside to being hurt. Inside of being confrontational when he spoke Leroy's tone was almost conciliatory.

"I was the one who broke my own rule and assumed that Vance would respect my wishes over this. You'd think he would know you well enough by now to realise that you can be a damned idiot when it comes to taking care of yourself." Gibbs sharp words were softened by the rueful affection in his tone.

"Are you forgetting rule 37 Boss?" Tony asked.

"Haven't forgotten it," Gibbs met his gaze. "Just don't think it applies here."

"Does this rule 37 have anything to do why you are here instead of in the Hospital where they can take proper care of you and you can come back to your loved ones safe and well?" Jack was still determined to get back to the heart of the matter.

"Boss?" Tony's look was a clear challenge.

However, Gibbs was prevented from answering when they all heard the front door open and close and Dr Mallard's distinctive cultured tones echo around the hallway as he called out Jethro's name. Jack didn't miss the lighting flash look of silent communication between the two younger men as they tried to work out how they were going to handle their two nemeses. Although, he had no idea what they had decided until Leroy spoke up.

"On my way, Duck."

"He got here pretty fast." Tony looked slightly nervous.

"Probably was already on his way here when Abby called," Gibbs' light shrug belied the shadows in his eyes before he looked at his father. "Make sure he stays put this time willya?"

Jackson nodded his assent, as he dragged a chair across to Tony's bedside. He was both pleased and a little proud that his son trusted him to watch over his wayward agent. He had no doubt that part of his task was to keep the younger man out of harm's way until Leroy had been able to dampen down the Scottish ME's ire a little. Still since he considered himself family he wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to make his own feeling known.

"That was a darn fool thing you did taking off from the Hospital like that." He scolded firmly. "You want to tell me what you were thinking worrying folks who care about you like that?"

"I'm sorry," Tony looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I didn't mean for anyone to worry."

"You didn't think Leroy would worry that by coming here you were gonns be hurting yourself pretty bad?"

"Frankly, I wasn't sure what he was thinking," Tony answered with a touch of heat, although by now Jackson knew him well enough to recognise the hurt feeling underneath his anger. "And it wasn't like I could actually ask him. He never came to see me in the Hospital."

"Is that what you think?" Jack's eyes widened. "Son, he's been in to see you every night since you were admitted. He probably knows more about your care regime than most of those pretty nurses you've been flirting with."

Tony felt his own eyes widen as something that has been eluding him finally clicked into place. The ethereal touch of a firm hand stroking his sweat soaked hair, the ghostly murmur of a supportive voice chasing away his worst of his consuming night terrors, the solid presence of a man he trusted more than life itself, had not been a drug induced dream of his own needy imagination but a reflection of his Boss' own love and devotion to his injured agent.

"Oh," He felt his colour rise with awkwardness and embarrassment. "I sort of thought all of that was just wishful thinking on my part."

Jackson regarded the younger man with a mixture of exasperation and compassion. By now he had heard enough clipped remarks from Leroy to appreciate that DiNozzo snr hadn't done the best of jobs in making his son feel loved and cared for especially when he was sick or hurting. Even so, the young fella should know by now that the Gibbs men took care of their kin no matter what the circumstances.

"He thought you were dead." Jackson pushed gently.

"Except I wasn't," Tony pointed out.

"Maybe not, but I guess it was kinda hard to tell under all that blood," Jackson eyed him seriously. "It seems to me like you gave him a pretty bad scare."

"We're Federal Agents. Danger is part of our lives," Tony pointed out. "Its not like he's never thought I was dead before."

"Did something happen, son?" Jackson pressed. "Something that would make Leroy feel like he had to cut and run from a job he loves?"


	13. Chapter 13

Gibbs braced himself as he made his way towards the kitchen. In all their years of friendship he had only experienced the usually genial ME's genuine wrath a handful of times. From the way that Mallard was pacing back and forth and muttering under his breath, this was definitely going to be one of those times. Because he was pretty sure that Ducky was going to want to send DiNozzo straight back to the Hospital and short of actually putting Tony's life at risk, this was one time Gibbs was going to fight him on that.

"Jethro," Mallard spun around on his heel, as he noticed his entrance. "There you are. Honestly, I don't know what that boy was thinking. His doctor was really most displeased. His healing is at quite a crucial juncture. If he has popped any of those stitiches.."

"I already checked, Duck," Gibbs tried to stem the angry flow. "The stitches are fine."

"You'll forgive me if I prefer to see for myself," Mallard sniffed. "Those stitches took several hours of very delicate surgery. Granted the past few days will have allowed some healing to occur but the skin will still be extremely fragile and if any of the scabs are disturbed then .."

"Duck," Gibbs felt his own patience ebbing away. "He's fine."

"And is that your professional medical opinion?" Mallard asked with an arched brow. "Honestly, Jethro, I have come to expect this kind of cavalier attitude towards his health and well being from Tony himself, but I would rather have hoped that you would have more sense."

"He didn't do himself any real harm," Gibbs decided not to mention just how pale and shaky his trip across town had left his agent. "And now he's here I'll make sure he follows orders."

"You can't seriously be thinking of actually allowing him to continue to stay here?" Ducky was incredulous. "Jethro, he needs professional medical care."

"C'mon, Duck, you know what Tony gets like when he's in the Hospital," Gibbs attempted to talk his old friend around. "First off, he'll try to do too much too soon, just so he can get out of there. And that's before we get onto taking his meds or actually eating the food. He's not going to be pulling any of that crap on my watch."

"Jethro," Mallard sighed, much of his anger ebbing away as he remembered that DiNozzo was not presently his only concern. "I can understand your need to keep Tony close at hand. You are rather protective of your people at the best of times, and this had hardly been that. You have both been through a very difficult experience. It's only natural that you want to take care of him but you have your own recovery to consider."

"I can manage just fine," Gibbs dismissed the reference to his broken thumb as of no account with irritation. "DiNozzo is the one Andrews sliced up like a salami!

He knew that he was on thin ice when Mallard's eyes narrowed slightly. As much as it had been a help to his team in the past Gibbs was not presently in the mood to have his motives analysed by the ME. Mallard was bound to remember that Andrews had used the knife that he had bought for DiNozzo to inflict those injuries and that wasn't something Gibbs was in any mood to talk about.

"Did something happen?" Ducky asked carefully, as if aware he was venturing into unchartered territory. "Something you didn't care to mention in your report and which might explain your sudden and really rather unexpected decision to join the ranks of the newly retired?"

"You mean apart from the fact that my agent was captured because of my screw up and then needlessly tortured with the knife I gave him by a man who would already have been dead if I hadn't ordered Ziva to leave the job half undone, while I just stood there and watched?" Gibbs demanded hotly.

He hoped that by going with the known facts and putting enough fire and fury into his words that he could avoid any more unwelcome questions. But judging by the look on Ducky's face all he had managed to do was deepen his curiosity.

"Jethro," Mallard's expression was that of a man grasping a particularly distasteful nettle. "We both know that Andrews was a man of very particular and rather unpleasant tastes. A handsome and charming young man like Tony would have held an especial attraction for him given that his role as a Federal Agent and his own irrepressible nature would be something of a challenge."

"Nothing happened, Duck." Gibbs sighed, suddenly feeling very old.

Mallard pressed his lips together as he carefully considered his next words. He wasn't doubting that the other man was telling him the truth. He already knew that the Hospital's examination hadn't found any evidence of physical abuse of DiNozzo beyond the deep cuts, painful bruises and a few small burns. But he was also well aware that a man like Andrews would have taken pleasure in the 'game' of letting his captives know about his intentions and enjoy playing with their minds and manipulating their emotions.

"Jethro, .."

"Damn it, Duck, I said, _nothing_ happened." Gibbs raised his voice.

"Jethro, I understand your need to protect Tony's professional reputation," Ducky argued. "But you can't just brush this under the carpet. An episode like this could very well have very serious emotional repercussions. Tony is going to need to talk to someone about this."

Gibbs bit the inside of his cheek, hard, as he struggled to hold his rising tide of emotions in check. As his hands gripped the side of the kitchen table he felt the pain pulse through his broken thumb in perfect harmony with the pounding in his ears. He had barely slept in days, spending most of his nights sitting by his agent's beside, slipping away before he woke because he was too much of a damned coward to face the results of his decisions. Well, he might have failed DiNozzo once he wasn't going to let him down again. No matter what the cost.

"It's not that simple, Duck." He began.

"Granted DiNozzo can be remarkably stubborn about such things," Ducky interrupted him. "But if you were to take the lead and make an appointment for him then he would see that there was nothing to be ashamed of in getting the help he needs. If you would rather not use the Agency's people I could certainly recommend .."

"Duck!" Gibbs barked. "You're not listening to me. Its not that simple because it wasn't DiNozzo who .."

"Leroy" Jackson's raised voice caught both their attentions, threaded through as it was with real anxiety. "Leroy! You better get back here before this young fella of yours does himself a real mischief."

Gibbs was already moving with the spirtly ME hurrying behind as fast as his somewhat more advanced years would allow. He rounded the doorway to Tony's room to see Jackson Gibbs looking helpless, his face a study in anxiety, with a painful looking swelling already blossoming on his right eye as the younger man, his own eyes still firmly closed, but his body soaked with sweat as he thrashed around in the grips of a nightmare.

"I tried to get him to tell me what was going on in that head of his," Jackson was talking. "I thought it might help him to get it all out. But he cared more about sparing an old man's feelings than healing those wounds of his and I don't mean the ones under the bandages. Anyone can see that young fella is hurting real bad. But he just made a joke of it. When he fell asleep, it happened so fast, at first I thought he was faking just so he didn't have to answer my questions."

"It's been a pretty long week, Dad." Gibbs allowed.

"He's going to tear his stitches," Mallard warned. "Jethro, you must get him to calm down."

"I'm on it, Duck." Gibbs assured him.

He knew from long experience that there was only one good way to wake his senior field agent when he got like this. Swiftly crossing to his bedside, he stood right by his head, well out of range of any failing fists or kicking legs and placed a firm, cool, hand, on the sweat soaked brow, pressing down just hard enough to maintain a steady, comforting, pressure, but not so much that his agent would feel like his was being restrained.

"DiNozzo."

The agitated movements slowed somewhat as Tony murmured something none of that could catch, but he still didn't open his eyes. Biting back a small sigh, Gibb squatted down, ignoring the pain in his knee as he kept the comforting touch on the younger man's forehead, before bringing his lips level with his ear. Taking a second to sweep a thumb across a vulnerable temple he considered his next move.

"How long has the nightmare been going on?" Mallard was asking, worried what the extent of the damage might be.

"He was sleeping just fine until the two of you started shouting at each other." Jack pointed out. "Then his face screwed all up like he was in pain and he started to move about. I could see he was going to hurt himself so I reached out to shake his shoulder and he shied away from me like he was absolutely terrified."

"Ah, that would explain what I fear will be quite the Black eye," Ducky tutted sympathetically. "He may consider himself to be more of a brawler than a fighter but his has always had a very fine right hook, brought Jethro down with it a time or two if I'm not mistaken."

"Really?" Jack actually looked quite pleased at that.

"Aw hell, DiNozzo," Gibbs murmured, as he realised what had got his agent's subconscious all riled up. "Its okay, everything's alright. You did a great job. Made me proud, had my six just like always."

"B-Boss?" Tony blinked, as he suddenly went deathly still.

"Right here," Gibbs assured him. When nothing happened after a beat or two he lifted up his hand to give the gentlest of taps. "If you open your eyes you might be able to see better."

"Not sure I want to," Tony screwed up his features, taking comfort from the steady weight of the broad palm on his clammy forehead as he tried to bring his breathing back under control. "Sorry, Boss, didn't mean to wig out on you like that. Because if there was ever anywhere in my life I've felt safe it's definitely here. I don't know what happened. It was like I was right back there and ..."

All of a sudden he took a deep panicked breath and seemed to get even paler as the memory returned.

"But you're okay right?" He demanded intently. "I mean, he didn't you know, _hurt_ you did he? Because, I might have been the appetizer, but he was just toying with me to make you pissed. He was definitely planning on you being the entree. "No, he didn't hurt me," Gibbs kept his focus solely on his agent, even though behind him he was aware that Ducky and his father would be exchanging shocked looks at the unexpected revelation that he had been Andrews intended prey all along. "He never laid a finger on me. Even half dead you still stopped him, remember?"

"Good," Tony seemed to relax slightly. "That's good. Think it was that whole Marine vibe thing you have. Breaking me, was just a bit of fun. Taking you down would be a real challenge"

"So, are you going to open your eyes any time soon?" Gibbs nudged after a moment.

"My dear boy, I need to examine you to make sure that you haven't don't yourself any further damage with all your recent exertions," Mallard spoke kindly. "I feel that might do rather more expediently if you can see what I am doing."

"Ducky," Tony cracked open one wary eye as he looked around, the slightly panicked look as he realised they had company and everything had just said had been inadvertently overheard not fooling anyone. "Ah, and Jack's right here too. We should have a party. Don't suppose anyone thought to bring chips and beer?"

"No beer for you, until Ducky gives you the all clear," Gibbs mussed his agent's hair gently, trying to quell the anxiety in his agent's eyes as to how much his anxious ramblings might have given rather too much away. "Don't worry about it."

"But..."

"DiNozzo, I _said_ don't worry about it," Gibbs eyed him firmly. "We'll work it out."

"If you say so," Tony said doubtfully as he surveyed the two other men. "Hey Jack, what happened to your eye?"


	14. Chapter 14

"Gentleman, will you excuse us?" Mallard gave the Gibbs men a pointed look before either of them could begin to respond to Tony's question, turning his gaze meaningfully towards the door. "I just need a moment to ensure that my patient is still mostly in one piece."

"Your patient?" Gibbs questioning look clearly asked if the ME had changed his mind on allowing Tony to stay put.

"Yes well," Mallard huffed slightly. "That remains to be seen. _If_ he hasn't done himself any serious damage I might be able to develop a home care regime that would meet his needs."

"We'd both appreciate it, Duck."

As he ushered his father out of the door, Gibbs didn't miss the grateful look Tony threw in his direction. He hoped that his unequivocal endorsement that he wanted to keep Tony close at hand would be enough to reassure DiNozzo there were no hard feelings about his letting the cat out of the bag. The last thing he wanted right now was the younger man tying himself up in knots over something that wasn't remotely his fault. As Jackson settled himself at the table he crossed over to the freezer and, finding what he was looking for, pulled out a bag of frozen peas.

"Here, this will ease the swelling."

"Shouldn't it be steak?" His father asked, even as he obediently pressed the cool bag to his rapidly swelling eye.

"Try telling DiNozzo that."

Gibbs was in no mood to explain further to his father how the first time he had sat his senior field agent down and tried to get him to press a raw steak to his black eye the foodie Italian had reacted with near outrage, extolling at great length the virtues of corn fed beef, which had been slowly matured to achieve that perfect melt off the bone texture. Not to mention how the Phys Ed Major had then spent several minutes lecturing him that frozen peas were both a more hygienic and a more malleable ice pack for sore extremities.

"_Also they were the only thing I was never tempted to eat between injuries." Tony had joked._

"I'm more worried about how I'm going to explain to him that he socked me in the eye with his elbow," Jack made a face. "Do you think he would believe me if I told him I had walked into a door?"

"If he did I'd fire his ass," Gibbs commented dryly as he refilled his coffee and joined his father at the table. "You're just going to have to tell him the truth. He's gonna feel bad about it either way but he'll gonna feel a whole lot worse if he thinks someone he trusts has lied to him."

"That was quite the trick, calming him down the way you did," Jack was curious. "What ever did you say to him?"

"Just told him what he needed to hear." Gibbs evaded.

"Well, it sure was effective, I didn't think anything was going to do the trick, what with him being all riled up the way he was," Jackson paused and Gibbs knew he was looking for a way to broach the delicate subject of DiNozzo's revelations about Andrews intentions towards him. He wasn't surprised when his father simply decided to take the most direct route and ask. "Why didn't you say anything, son?"

"Nothing to say," Gibbs was dismissive. "DiNozzo took Andrews out before he could lay a finger on me. He's the only one around here you need to be worrying about."

"That why that boy got off his sick bed to come all the way over here to see for himself what is going on with you? Or why you've been shutting the rest of that team of yours out? Not taking your Director's calls. Refusing to talk to anyone who cares about you?" Jack challenged. "You're hurting, Leroy and burying your head in the sand the way you've been doing isn't going to mend anything."

"That's because there's nothing to fix." Gibbs insisted.

"You want to tell that to that young fella in there?" Jackson pressed. "Did you know he didn't even think you had been to visit him in the Hospital? You've been so busy sneaking around so you wouldn't have to explain yourself to anyone he had himself convinced it was just wishful thinking on his part that you would bother to get off your ass and come and see how he doing. "

Gibbs bit the inside of his cheek. He had known Tony had been pretty out of it when he had visited but he hadn't realised things were that bad. But he could just imagine the younger man convincing himself that his Boss' words of praise and encouragement had been nothing but figments of his fevered imagination.

"I thought we'd got past that kind of thing." He sighed.

He knew, of course, that DiNozzo's insecurities would never truly go away. His father had done too good a job of making his only son feel like an inconvenience in his life for that ever really to happen. But over the years they had forged a bond of trust and understanding which meant the younger man should have known better than to think he would just abandon him like that. Especially, when he was hurting.

"Now don't you be being too hard on him," Jackson advised. "You haven't been any better. Besides, most folks generally tend to get themselves all turned around when they're sick or hurting. You just make a proper fuss of him and he'll be right as rain in no time."

"He doesn't like it when I'm nice." Gibbs reflected.

"You can't really believe that's true," Jackson scoffed. "A blind man could see that boy's just crying out for every kind word and speck of encouragement. It's obvious you care about him. You wouldn't have let him move in and clutter up your bathroom with all those creams and gels of his, if you didn't. If you would just let down those walls of yours and realise how much he wants to be the one to help you, maybe you wouldn't have to let him down by heading for the hills like you're planning on."

"He'll get over it."

"Like he got over being abandoned by his father? Or the way you got over losing those beautiful girls? Or how I still think of your mother every single night before I go to sleep? Some hurts just stay with you, Leroy and you'll be undoing all the good you've done that boy if you let him think you can't trust him with this."

"You don't think he's had a hard enough time?" Gibbs demanded. "He doesn't need to be burdened with my problems too."

"See son, that's where I think you're wrong," Jackson shook his head. "I think that's exactly what he needs."

* * *

People often figured that Gibbs was an impatient man. His need for answers, his drive to get things done yesterday the way he didn't suffer fools gladly all adding to the impression that he had a very short fuse. But when it came to the important things, such as courting and finally winning Shannon, waiting to acquire a sniper target, teaching his people the right way to go about things or manning a stakeout, he always preferred to make sure of his ground before rushing in.

On reflection, his more impetuous decisions had generally been his biggest screw ups. His second, third and fourth marriages and pretty much every time he had gone off half cocked without his team for backup came to mind. And then there was the utter disaster that had been his Mexican 'hiatus.' He was beginning to think he needed to make a new rule about learning from his mistakes. So, before he did anything this time, he simply watched.

He watched as DiNozzo slept, recognising the way the younger man was more settled when he was close by, needing only a word or a touch to pull him out of his nightmares and into a more restful sleep. At first had simply assumed that the younger man just wanted a spot of comfort to soothe away his terrors. But it quickly became clear that DiNozzo was far more agitated when Ducky or Jack took their turn to mop his fevered brow

"_Boss! Boss!"_

_The note of urgency in that call had Gibbs hurrying back from the head to see a DiNozzo, who seconds earlier had been sleeping deeply, wide awake, his eyes wide and staring as he searched the room in vain for his team lead, as Mallard attempted to soothe him._

"_Easy," Gibbs reassured. "I'm right here."_

"_Good, that's good," Tony breathed an audible sigh of relief before settling back and issuing a slightly slured rebuke. "G'tta stay close, B'ss. Can't watch your six if you keep takin' off on me."_

Exchanging a slightly startled look with Ducky, Gibbs had realised that his agent hadn't been focusing on his own hurts, but was continuing to dwell on his need to fullfill the senior field agent's responsibility to look out for his team lead and watch his six. His face creasing in a slightly rueful smile, Gibbs wondered if he had trained DiNozzo a little too well. Resigning himself to the inevitable, he silently gestured for Ducky to move aside so he could take his place.

As the day wore on he watched as Jackson did his best to find the right words to tell the young man he loved like a favourite grandson that the fairly impressive shiner he was now sporting had been courtesy of his flailing elbow during the course of a nightmare.

"_I did that?" Tony paled and went a sickly shade of green. "I actually hit you?"_

"_It was an accident, son," Jackson pointed out kindly. "And its fine, Jethro gave me your patented frozen food cure to bring down the swelling and Dr Mallard overt there has taken a look see. There's no harm done."_

_Gibbs had rarely been prouder of his agent when Tony didn't blush or stutter, make some kind of crass joke to hide his embarrassment or in any way try to excuse his actions but he simply met Jack's eyes and gave a quiet but totally sincere apology which reflected his genuine regret and concern about the older man's well being._

"_Jack, I am so sorry, you didn't fall or anything did you?"_

Gibbs wasn't especially surprised when Abby turned up against his orders, bearing her mountain of gifts, determined to see for herself that all was well. Nor that DiNozzo spent most of his time during her visit masking his pain and making her laugh so that she wouldn't continue to worry. It was only when she was reluctantly taking her leave that he over heard something that he hadn't quite expected.

"_Now mister, you remember what you promised." Abby was insisting._

"_Don't worry, Abs. Gibbs isn't going to leave NCIS," Tony reassured her, putting a finger across her lips as she opened her mouth to voice a further protest. "And I'm not going anywhere either. I didn't go through all of that to still let that SOB break up our family. Trust me Andrews isn't gonna win."_

"_Do you want me to lend you my handcuffs?" Abby suggested. "Because you know how stubborn Gibbs can be."_

"_Don't worry, Abs," Tony kissed her forehead. "I have my own secret weapon."_

"_You do? __Really?" Abby's eyes lit up. "What is it? Tell me!"_

"_If I told you, it wouldn't be secret, now would it?" Tony had teased._

Gibbs couldn't help be feel impressed by his senior field agent's quiet confidence that he would change his Boss' mind. He knew that Tony would never have dreamt of promising anything to Abby that he didn't think he could deliver. Gibbs tipped his head on one side as he reflected that the younger man seemed pretty determined to have this out. And whatever outsiders might think, the handful of times DiNozzo had seen fit to take his Boss to task, it had usually been the former Marine who had been forced to give ground.

It was late by the time Ziva and McGee arrived, under the guise of delivering some paperwork Vance wanted him to sign, but both rather obviously keen to see their partner for themselves. By then Tony was looking tired and drawn and Gibbs was tempted to send them away until the morning but he'd figured a few minutes couldn't do any harm. Leaving them alone alone in the lounge as he and Jackson cleared away the dinner dishes he should have realised that once the usual affectionate gibes and gentle teasing were out of the way his agents conversation would inevitably turn to the case.

"_And you weren't __unconscious at any point?" McGee was wondering. "Because, that was a whole lot of blood you lost."_

"_Not exactly unconscious," Tony bit his lip, obviously not entirely willing to describe to his younger partner how he had shut down his feelings and emotions, disassociating himself from his surroundings as Andrews had ran his hands over his skin like he owned him. "Just not exactly paying much attention."_

"_Like in high school math class?" McGee tried to lighten the mood._

"_Not unless your high school math teacher burnt you with a cigar butt if you gave him the wrong answer." Tony spoke darkly._

"_It is late, we should go and let you get your rest," Ziva cut in. She knew what it was like to have to overcome difficult experiences and whilst McGee meant well, Tony's wounds were still too raw, his memories too vivid, to be examined in soft lamplight of Gibbs' comfortable home. "Ducky said to tell you that he will be back in the morning to check your dressings. And Abby hopes that you are still taking good care of little Jethro."_

"_Gibbs says it yaps almost as much as I do," Tony smiled, thinking of the battery operated toy German shepherd puppy Abby had brought him, that barked, walked and did somersaults. "At least, it did until he confiscated its batteries."_

Somehow Gibbs was far more disturbed by the fact that Tony could smile and joke as if nothing had happened then he was by the brief flashes of darkness. With a pang of guilt he realised that he was indeed doing the younger man a disservice by attempting to shield him from his own feelings. Tony needed to understand that he didn't need to put on his mask for him. And the only way he could make that clear was to step up and take the lead in letting him know where he was coming from.

However, having finally shown his two other agents out, he turned back around to see that DiNozzo was already dead to the world on the couch. Reluctant to wake him Gibbs set about finding a pillow and some blankets to make the young man more comfortable, before settling with his crossword into the adjacent armchair to keep watch. Jack could have his bed for tonight and in the morning he and DiNozzo would clear the air. However hard that might turn out to be, DiNozzo had more than earned that right.

That still didn't mean he was giving him the batteries back to that damned yappy dog.


	15. Chapter 15

Tony blinked as he came awake slowly, taking a moment to appreciate the soft pillow placed under his head and the warm blanket which had been spread across him. The late morning winter sunshine streaming through the windows was testament to how long and how well he had slept. Tipping his head to one side, he wasn't surprised to see Gibbs sitting sentry in the adjacent armchair, his brow furrowed as he did battle with the crossword.

"You need some help with twelve across?"

"Bout time you woke up." Gibbs didn't look up. "How are you feelin?"

"Like I've done nothing but sleep for days," Tony admitted, as he tried a careful stretch. The former athlete hated the enforced inactivity of a hospital stay, especially when his rest had been dictated by heavy medication rather than natural sleep patterns. But he couldn't deny that the sleep had done him good. On the other hand, the dark circles under Gibbs eyes told their own story. Tony tipped his head on one side. "You should try it."

The glare was not entirely unexpected. But neither was the way that Gibbs sighed and scrubbed at his face. Which in Gibbs speak was a tacit admission that his second had a point. Tony kept his features carefully schooled and did not allow any of his hope to leak into his expression. Even so, he felt a small, warm, glow of satisfaction at his successful subterfuge. Getting Gibbs to admit he was – not exactly right – about, well anything, was a real art.

He definitely owed Jack a beer or two.

"First you eat, then you take your meds, after than Ducky's coming over to change your dressings," Gibbs voice cut into his musings, as his Boss tossed the crossword onto the table and stood up, fixing his still reposing senior field agent with an unreadable expression. "Then we'll talk."

"Really?" Tony blinked slightly at this 'pod Gibbs' who was actually willing to talk and decided there was only one way to ease the awkwardness of his Boss' admission. "Are you feeling allright? Maybe you should get Ducky to check you out too whilst he's here?"

"Don't push it," Gibbs warned. "And just for the record, if you ever use my Dad as your 'secret weapon' again I will put my boot so far up your ass.."

"You worked that out, huh?" Tony gave a sheepish smile, which was met by a stare flinty enough to make younger man wince slightly. "Or you over heard me talking to Abby."

When nothing but silence met his best puppy dog expression, Tony pasted on his most confident smile. "That's okay, Boss. I know that you're proud of me as an investigator for using the resources available to me to get the outcome I needed. You don't actually have to say the words."

"You _want_ oatmeal for breakfast?" Gibbs countered dryly.

"Boss, you wound me," Tony grinned, enjoying the banter. Secure in the knowledge that the man might threaten him with the hated gloop, but he would never actually feed it to him. Working with Gibbs challenged him, pushed him, made him the best he could be, but actually living with the man soothed a long held ache in his soul. "I need to build up my strength, I was thinking maybe pancakes?"

"You were, huh?" Gibbs kept his face expressionless, even though he had already shopped for DiNozzo's favourite breakfast. "Syrup, Banana or Chocolate Chip?"

"All three?" Tony eyed his Boss hopefully.

"I make 'em you better eat 'em." Gibbs warned.

"Um," Tony considered that, before negotiating. "Half of each?"

A grunt was the only reply to that, but Gibbs headed towards the kitchen so Tony took that as a positive sign. Listening to the sounds of industry which followed as bowls and utensils were located and batter assembled, he told himself sternly to ignore the tight painful feeling as his stitches pulled the skin on his back and forced himself to focus on other things.

"So, where's Jack?"

"Gone down the street to the Hendersons to watch something on cable and flirt with old Mrs Walker." Gibbs said slightly sourly.

"You can hardly blame him, Boss," Tony replied. "Your TV is like something out of the dark ages and Lori Henderson's Mom is a very attractive widower."

Gibbs flipped the three varieties of pancakes with the ease of long practise and whipped out his knife to cut each deftly, dividing them between two plates thinking fondly of the times he had done this to the tune of Kelly's happy giggles. Rolling the pancakes into cigar shapes that Tony could manage to nudge from plate to mouth even with his injured hands, he added melted butter and syrup.

"Ducky, is _not_ going to be pleased with you." Tony grinned hisdelight.

"You plannin' on telling him?"

"Not me."

When Ducky arrived to change the dressings Gibbs took himself off to the kitchen to wash up the dishes. He had made sure that DiNozzo had had his meds in good time but he knew that the procedure was still going to be painful and prolonged. Sure enough, by the time the ME had finished up Tony looked pale and spent.

"You should rest," Gibbs decided, after he had shown Ducky out. "We can talk later."

"Or you could go take a good look in the mirror," Tony pointed out. "You look worse than I do. I bet those pancakes were the first real meal you've eaten in days."

Gibbs blinked, belatedly realising that his agent's negotiation over his portion size had actually been a ploy to get him to eat. Even knocked on his ass his senior field agent was still watching his six. The unexpected compassion made his throat close and his chest tighten enough that he had to clench his jaw tightly and look away so that DiNozzo didn't see how much his words had affected him. Except that, the younger man knew him well enough to read his body language.

"I don't blame you, you know." Tony said quietly.

"Well, maybe you should," Gibbs spoke bitterly. "I was the one who didn't let Ziva kill him. I was the one who got clipped with that bullet so you had to come back for me, if none of that had happened that animal would never have got his hands on you and maybe your back wouldn't look like a damned patchwork quilt."

"You know, in Peoria I wore tore jeans and an earring to bring down a guy with a stable of college kids struggling to make tuition. In Philly I went undercover as a high class escort to bust a prostitution ring. And in Baltimore I posed as a drug addict willing to sell himself for his next fix."

"I've read your file." Gibbs reminded him.

"Then you know its not the first time I've attracted the wrong sort of attention because of the way I look or act," Tony eyed him seriously. "At least when I'm undercover I usually have an ear wig and some backup. Those times it happens when I'm out clubbing I just have to hope that the guy will take no for an answer, mostly people do. Not always."

Gibbs head snapped around, his eyes piercing in their intensity.

"Nothing heavy," Tony assured his Boss quickly. "A couple of bar fights, well scraps, really. In College I always had my buddies around me and once I became a cop flashing my badge usually worked pretty well. I'm just saying I've always been able to find trouble all on my own. I don't need your help for that. All you've ever done is watch my six.

"Yeah, I did a real good job of that." Gibbs scoffed.

They both knew he had dropped the ball on this one. Andrews had systematically tortured DiNozzo to make the former marine feel powerless and much as he hated to admit it, it had been damned effective. Andrews could have done anything, anything he wanted to his senior field agent and Gibbs wouldn't have been able to stop him.

"It's not the same, you know."

Tony spoke the words with as much confidence as he could muster, hoping that Gibbs couldn't hear the beating of his heart as it pounded in his chest, or see the thin line of sweat he could feel building on his upper lip. Given the choice he would rather take a bullet or dive into icy water. He had never been afraid of standing up to his Boss when the situation warranted it, but that was work. This was far more personal and he really wasn't all that sure how Gibbs was going to react.

"What?" Gibbs asked dangerously.

_He knows_, Tony realised, reading that suddenly wary expression with an odd sense of relief. Gibbs knew exactly where he was going with this and he hadn't taken a swing at him or thrown him out on his ass, which meant that his reasoning wasn't in fact as egotistical as he had feared it might be. He was actually right. That in itself gave him the courage to continue. He needed to do this, for Gibbs, for the team and for himself. Taking a deep breath he met his Boss' eyes as he spoke.

"It's not the same as when Shannon and Kelly were targeted. You blame yourself that you weren't here to protect them. Of course you do. Despite the fact that you were overseas, serving your country and even though an NIS agent gave his life trying to protect them, you still feel that it was your responsibility as a husband and father to keep them safe."

"Go on." Gibbs expression was unreadable.

"Andrews didn't target me because I was an NCIS Agent," Tony plunged onwards. "This wasn't like all those other times when some whack job went after me because of a case, or even because I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. He lit into me because he wanted to hurt you, because he had found my knife and read the inscription, because he realised that that you weren't just my Boss. That we were like family."

The only reaction he got was a further tightening of Gibbs jaw as he thought about the inscription on the ZT knife he had purchased for DiNozzo. _Tony DiNozzo 04.24.06 Hero Love LJG_

"I'm right aren't I? That is what you've been beating yourself up over, isn't it?" Tony pressed. "Because you have spent every minute of every day since you lost your family trying to keep other people safe. It's why you joined NCIS and it's what has kept you going all these years, looking for all those lost fathers and husbands, sons and daughters, wives and mothers, bringing all those bad guys to justice. You never wanted anyone else to have to go through what you went through and then Andrews comes along and it's like you're back in that nightmare because you felt your actions put me in danger and then you couldn't keep me safe."

"Like I said before," Gibbs spoke tightly. "Its time I retired, maybe, way past time."

But see here's the thing," Tony continued, as if his Boss hadn't spoken. "Even putting aside the fact that I am a highly trained and extremely competent Federal Agent, mostly because you've spent the last nine years making sure that I was the best I could be. Not forgetting that I was there in the first place because I was doing a job which I happen to love and am very proud to do. You're being a jackass because when Andrews' goons had me in their sights you _broke your own thumb_ so you could slip your cuffs and save my life."

Part of Gibbs brain recognised that he might crack a tooth if he clenched his jaw any tighter. It had been one of the hardest things he had ever had to do. To stand there and watch DiNozzo being tortured and know that he couldn't react for fear of feeding Andrews twisted fantasies. Trying to do the only thing he could and keep eye contact with the younger man to give him the strength and support to withstand his injuries. Feeling every cut of the blade as if it were being sliced into his own skin.

"I should have done something earlier."

"So why didn't you?" Tony challenged. "We both know you could have slipped those cuffs anytime you wanted. So, was there an opening that you missed? Was there a moment before when Andrew's goons were distracted? Was there a single opportunity to get the drop on them that wouldn't simply have got one or both of us killed?"

Gibbs closed his eyes tight shut. He what his agent was trying to do. He knew exactly what DiNozzo expected him to say. The implicit trust in the younger man's voice sliced through his soul. And he felt like a total bastard, because he knew that Tony had been not aware of his surroundings the whole time. Part of him wished he had remembered this. The other part wanted to hide from the reality. He didn't have the courage to look at the expectation in those green eyes. Couldn't find the words to say what needed to be said. But he was still a Marine at heart and he could not lie to this man about something like this.

"There wasn't was there?"

The quiet certainty in Tony's voice almost broke Gibbs. His senior field agent was so damned certain that if there had been a single chance to get them out of there he would have capitalised on it. And the kid in DiNozzo implicitly trusted that then man he loved better than his own father would have done everything in his power to keep him safe and save him from the monster. For a minute he wanted to take the coward's way out and lie. But DiNozzo deserved better. He had screwed it up. And now it was time to face the music.

"Yeah," Gibbs swallowed hard. "There was a chance. I just didn't take it."


	16. Chapter 16

"That's a load of bull and we both know it," Tony spoke with utter conviction. He remembered the flint hard fury in his Boss' eyes as he had vowed to break Andrew's neck. That the Marine would care _that much _for his sake had long since ceased to surprise him. But it had never lost its power to make him feel valued, humbled, even loved. "There is no way that you would pass up a chance to get us both out of there."

"Yeah well, I did so get used to it." Gibbs said wearily, as he sank into the armchair.

Tony frowned slightly as he took in the defeated set of the other man's shoulders. Contrary to popular opinion, Gibbs wasn't superman. Tony knew he was one of the worse offenders in wanting to perpetuate the myth that his Boss was absolutely invincible. But he had seen enough of the man behind the façade to understand that Gibbs showed so little of his emotions not because he didn't feel things all that deeply but because he felt things far too much.

The Gibbs he knew was capable of all kinds of emotions. But Tony had never figured 'defeated' might be one of them.

"What happened?"

He was careful to keep his tone neutral. Letting Gibbs set the pace. Not leading the witness. Obviously, his Boss thought something pretty major had gone down and, much as Tony hated to admit it, his own recollection of past events was anything but stellar. The quick glance Gibbs spared him told him that his Boss knew exactly what he was doing. But the lack of expression on his features didn't give him any clue as to where this conversation might be going.

"I screwed up," Gibbs didn't see any point in sugar coating it. "Andrews had already cut you pretty badly. I guess he wanted a chance of pace. He put down the knife and his asked one of his men for a book of matches."

"Oh."

Tony swallowed hard over a suddenly dry throat. He didn't remember any of this. He remembered the _before_ when Gibbs stood straight and tall, his eyes shining with pride as he willed his agent to hold on as the knife incised across his back and Tony had been damned if he would pass out on Gibbs' watch. And he remembered the _after_ when Andrews had startled him from his blood loss reverie with circles of burning pain on his soft exposed skin that he would carry for the rest of his life. But try as he might he couldn't call up any images of_ between._

"Andrews' man shouldered his weapon, searching his pockets. When he came up empty Andrews got impatient. He ordered his second man to look as well. I guess the poor bastard was more scared of Andrews than he was of us, because he snapped to without checking to see if his partner had reacquired their target." Gibbs recalled, tonelessly. "Andrews was left wide open."

Tony blinked, processing what Gibbs was saying. At that point, Andrews and his goons had all been distracted. Nobody has been pointing their weapons at them. Apparently nobody had even been paying any _attention_ to them. It would only have been a split second; Andrews goons hadn't exactly been amateur time after all. But he had seen Gibbs do far more with much less.

So, why hadn't that happened this time?

"Something stopped you," Tony decided. It was the most likely explanation after all. Especially if Gibbs had thought his actions might rebound on his helpless senior field agent he would definitely have held back. "Andrews still had my knife."

"He'd put it down on the table." Gibbs shook his head.

"Al-right," Tony drew out the word as he considered the possible alternatives. "So, maybe one of the goons was between us and you figured his partner had enough time to take aim. Or perhaps, I was way too out of it and you thought we couldn't both get out of there in time. Because, you know, you have that whole not leaving a man behind thing going on."

Gibbs didn't react at all. So, DiNozzo decided the change tack a little.

"C'mon, Boss help me out here because I've worked with you for almost a decade and I know there had to be some kind of reason."

"Oh yeah, there was a reason alright," Gibbs spoke bitterly. Tony watched as his Boss's jaw clenched even tighter and the colour rose in his cheeks as he struggled with his own emotions. His next words something of a challenge. "You sure you want to know what that reason was DiNozzo?"

"Well yeah, Gibbs," Deciding to help things along a little, Tony hardened his tone. Knowing that when Gibbs pushed like this often the only thing to do was to push right back. "I'm pretty sure. That was why I asked."

"I was too damned slow," Gibbs admitted, his hands gripping the arms of the chair so hard that Tony could see his white his knuckles had become. "I went to move but I got nowhere fast. My hand was only just out of the right cuff when Andrews realised what I was doing and had his men target each of us."

The memory of one of the henchman putting his weapon to DiNozzo's head had been bad enough. Understanding that the cold, hard, metal, pressed to his own temple, meant that if anything happen to him, he would be helpless to protect his senior field agent, had been even worse. Because it had been his failures all along that had turned opportunities into disasters.

"So, that's why you broke your thumb the second go around," Tony realised with sudden sympathy. That part had been bothering him all along. After all, he'd seen Gibbs slip out of cuffs countless times with nothing more than an easily fixable dislocation. He'd even popped the joint back in himself a few times. "You were trying to go too fast to use finesse."

"That bastard was _hurting_ you and he was _enjoying_ it," Gibbs growled his frustration. "You seriously expect me to care about finesse? I just wanted to get us the hell of there but I was too slow and too damned old to do it."

"_That's_ what's been bothering you?" Tony's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. Sucking in a breath he took a moment to consider his next words carefully so that his guilt ridden team lead might actually hear them. "Boss, you were bleeding out from a bullet wound in your arm. Plus Andrews was already having his own fun with you, cuffing you up to that pipe thing, you mostly likely didn't have any circulation in your arms. I'm surprised you could move at all."

"Twenty years ago it wouldn't have been a problem." Gibbs ruthlessly dismissed that.

Tony sucked in his cheeks. There were a lot of things he could say to that. But he didn't think Gibbs was in the mood to hear any of them right now. Considering his all his options, he realised that there was only one approach that might actually work. It was going to almost kill him to pull it off, but he figured the ends would justify the means and all that experience undercover had to count for something.

"Welcome to the human race," Tony pointed out blankly. "If _I_ had been faster covering your ass in the first place, maybe we would have been able to high tail it out of there and neither of us would have been at Andrews' mercy. This whole mess was at least as much my fault as yours. If not more, I was the one who went out of my way to bait him."

That brought Gibbs head up sharply, his eyes searching his senior field agent's face as he heard the unspoken caveat that his senior field agent felt he had got what he deserved. Not for the first time he cursed DiNozzo Snr for making the younger man feel like some kind of inconvenience rather than a much loved and valued human being.

"None of this was your fault. You were the one who killed him," Gibbs met his eyes squarely. He might be sparing with his praise. But he had never been one to withhold credit where it was due. "That was a damned good job, Tony."

"Thank you, Boss," Tony pretended to consider that. "You know, you did train me well. Better than any other Boss I ever had. And I did do the job I was supposed to do in the end, which saved both our asses. I guess if you're really ready to head off to pasture, far be it from me to stop you. Nobody can say you haven't earned your retirement. And you know I'll watch Ziva and McGee's six. I'll take care of Abby and look out for Ducky and Jimmy. We'll all be perfectly fine without you."

Gibbs pressed his lips together tightly, his instincts warring with his feelings. He knew DiNozzo would do a damned good job. He wouldn't have been training him up to replace him these last nine years, hell would never have taken his hiatus to Mexico, if he hadn't believed that. He knew he could trust the former detective to lead a team that would keep each other safe. Because for all DiNozzo's good qualities, he had never been able to break him of those damned reckless tendencies and he also wanted to be sure that DiNozzo's people would keep him safe too. He was proud of the team he had created, damned proud. But he couldn't help feeling a little hollow that he was now apparently surplus to their requirements.

"I might need you in that way anymore, Boss," Tony's quiet words seemed to read his thoughts. "But I still want you. Frankly, there's no one else I'd want to watch my six."

"Aren't you a little old for that kind of hero worship, DiNozzo?"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth Gibbs hated himself for being such a bastard. It wasn't as if he didn't know exactly why DiNozzo held him in such high esteem. And if he was honest he had gone out of his way to encourage that connection. Lord knows, the younger man desperately needed that kind of support in his life. Still, he should also have known that his protégé wasn't shy of giving as good as he got.

"There's a reason you're trying so hard to make this thing work with Jack." Tony pointed out.

"He's my father," Gibbs tried to defend his actions. "I can't exactly turn him away."

"So, that's why you _invited_ him for the holidays?" Tony gave him a knowing brow. "Or why your lounge room is suddenly sporting a Christmas tree and a selection of decorations that I've never seen in all the years I've known you? Not to mention why he is still here even though the holiday season is long gone."

"We missed the New Year." Gibbs pointed out.

"Yeah," Tony tipped his head on one side. "I have to admit Andrews' idea of a wild time really didn't do it for me. We need to make up for that. I know, we can throw you a retirement party."

"DiNozzo." The word spoke volumes.

"If you're not my Boss any more, you can't tell me what to do," Tony pointed out happily. "It'll be great. Abby can bring the balloons and make the punch. McGeek can organise the in house entertainment. I never did get to watch the DVD of Quantum of Solace. Ziva can help with the salads and desserts. And Ducky and Palmer can organise the cook out."

Gibbs gave him a look. The idea that the mortuary staff would deal with the preparing of the raw meat was just a little too close to the bone, even for the tough as nails marine.

"Just kidding," Tony smiled a little too brightly. "Nobody has a cook out in January."

"You forgetting the part where I hate parties?" Gibbs demanded.

"Pretty sure you'll hate retirement too," Tony met his gaze squarely. "And next time you up and leave rest assured I won't just stand aside if you decide you want to come back. If you give me that team this time I will make them my own and fight tooth and nail to keep my people."

"I wouldn't expect anything different." Gibbs couldn't be anything but proud.

"I'm just trying to say..," Tony hesitated slightly, before making a small face. "Don't go. Not like this. Because, seriously Gibbs the only people who are going to be celebrating if you hang up your spurs right now are going to be the bad guys. And I might be able to handle the team, but that doesn't mean I won't miss _you_, Jethro."

"Jethro?" Gibbs couldn't help the fond quirk to his lips. He knew _exactly_ what his senior field agent was trying to do.

"You don't like that, huh?" Tony asked cheekily, his whole demeanour shifting like mercury, a bright, hopeful smile, blossoming across his features. "Does that mean you're still my Boss?"

Gibbs sucked in a thin shallow breathe. He couldn't pretend that he actually _wanted _to retire. And looking at the bright, hopeful look, on his senior field agent's face, he couldn't bear to deny all that devotion. If DiNozzo could still trust him after everything that had happened, then he owned it to the younger man to reward that loyalty with a little staying power of his own. Reaching out with his good hand, he cuffed him fondly across the back of the head.

"And don't you forget it."

The two men looked solemnly at each other for a long moment. Then they both grinned broadly at each other, feeling at peace with their world.

"So," Tony looked askew at his mentor. "Who's going to be the one to tell Vance?"


	17. Chapter 17

It was weeks, rather than days, before the two men were both declared fit enough to return to duty. If anyone was surprised that a broken thumb, the kind of injury that would normally have Gibbs back at his desk the following day and out in the field as soon as he could qualify on the firing range, kept him so long on sick leave, they didn't mention it. In the meantime, Ziva and McGee lent their experience to other teams, dropping by to visit their teammates bearing a home cooked meal or a selection of books and DVDs on a regular basis. Mallard divided his time between his normal responsibilities and overseeing his friends' recuperation and Abby kept them up to date with the office scuttlebutt.

Nobody was surprised that when they did return they came in together.

"I feel like we haven't been here for ages," Tony commented, as they crossed the basement parking lot. "It's like it's familiar but strange at the same time, kind of like coming back to boarding school after the summer, you know?"

"Never went to boarding school." Gibbs said unnecessarily.

He knew DiNozzo knew that. He also knew and understood that the younger man was only talking because he was keyed up about what they were about to do. As they waited for the elevator he took the chance to study his senior field agent. Tony was still a little pale and his suit hung a little loose where he'd lost some muscle. But his eyes were bright and his expression was eager rather than wary. Gibbs knew that he had passed his psych evaluation with flying colours.

He also knew exactly how much Andrews has affected his agent. A light touch on the rudder wouldn't be out of place.

"Was a good couple of weeks." He allowed, letting his expression soften into a fond smile.

That got him a quick, surprised, look. Gibbs knew he wasn't exactly known for his enjoyment of down time. But the enforced vacation had done them both good. The way that DiNozzo had allowed him to take care of his injuries and had trusted him enough to confide his feelings of fear and helplessness at Andrews' hands had gone a long way to heal his own wounds. None of which had anything to do with his physical injuries.

"Yeah," Tony agreed, even as he felt those memories ground him. "It really was."

Neither of them would say the words, but they both knew the time together had further cemented their relationship. Tony was pretty sure Gibbs had pulled a few strings in order to stay home with him until he was cleared for duty. And it had been nice just to hang out together. Away from the pressures of work, they could just enjoy each others company and give full reign to those teasing exchanges and meaningful looks that underpinned their relationship.

Gibbs waited until they were in the privacy of the elevator car before he spoke again.

"You sure you want to do it this way?"

"Oh yeah," This time DiNozzo's reply left no room for doubt. "I'm sure."

"Still don't see why you need to have me in there when you break the news," Gibbs groused. He had been trying to get a straight answer out of DiNozzo about that for the last few days. His senior field had just fixed him with an unreadable look and changed the subject. "Vance just wants your sit-rep to tie up his paperwork and rubber stamp my return."

Tony snorted lightly at that.

"You mean he wants to work out how the hell I convinced you to change your mind, when he hasn't been able to steer you in any direction you didn't already want to go."

Gibbs only response to that was a look of such disdain that Tony's heart swelled. He knew the former marine didn't think Vance was such a bad guy. Indeed, they both felt that once the new Director had started to get over the need to mark his territory, he had begun to grow into a pretty decent Agency lead. But that look said clearly that Vance was still a long way from earning the level of trust and kind of leeway from the Senior Special Agent that DiNozzo could take for granted.

"You're right I don't need you there to tell Vance that I accomplished my mission to get you to stay," Tony acknowledged. "But I want you there to hear what I have to say."

"That again?"

Gibbs tried to look pissed. But the glare lacked its usual intensity. He couldn't help but feel his chest swell with warmth that DiNozzo, whilst well prepared to stand on his own two feet and forge his own path, still held their relationship in sufficient esteem that he would want him on his six. He wondered if this was what it would have been like to know Kelly as a competent and successful adult. He certainly hoped so.

"You need to hear it, Boss."

True to form, DiNozzo had seen right through his bluster to the core of his soul. Despite his partners assurances part of him still harboured the doubt that if he had been younger, faster, stronger, things would have turned out better. Neither of them spoke again as they rode up to the Director's office and were nodded through by his secretary.

"Gentlemen," Vance greeted them. "Good to see you both looking so well. Please take a seat."

If Vance was surprised to see them both come in together, when he had only summoned DiNozzo to this meeting he didn't let it show on his face. But he try to reassert his authority over the situation by ignoring the chain of command an addressing his first point to the senior field agent instead of the team lead.

"Agent DiNozzo, I have the paperwork here which will confirm your promotion to Supervisory Special Agent on the Major Crimes Response Team here in DC. All you have to do is sign on the dotted line."

"With respect, Director," Tony didn't even glance at Gibbs. "I can't do that. That position is no longer available."

"Oh?" Vance raised a brow.

He was somewhat surprised to see that Gibbs was obviously perfectly happy to let DiNozzo carry the conversation. The former Marine was simply sitting in his seat, his gaze unfocused as he picked a stray hair off his sleeve. If Vance didn't know better he might think the team lead wasn't paying attention at all.

"Special Agent Gibbs has decided that he does want to resume his responsibilities as team lead," Tony allowed. "And since his physical, firearms and pysch evaluations have all confirmed that he not only meets but exceeds all of the requirements for an active field agent then I am happy to endorse his decision."

"Is that so?" Vance looked between the two men. "Correct me if I'm wrong Agent DiNozzo but apart from your brief spell as Agent Afloat you have worked under Agent Gibbs for more than nine years. During that time you have been offered two separate promotions to team lead. Most Senior Field Agents would jump at those chances. What makes you so different?"

"I'm not the one that's different," Tony shook his head. "There isn't a person in this Agency that wouldn't give their right arm to benefit from working with an experienced investigator like Agent Gibbs. He is the root of all this. Maybe he doesn't suffer fools gladly and he perhaps he won't sugar coat what needs to be said or kiss ass to advance his career. But he has the best solve rate in this Agency. He has trained more successful agents than anyone else I know. He inspires loyalty in his people because he always has their best interests at heart. He's a good man doing a damned good job and there is nobody else on this earth I would rather be partnered with or have watching my six."

"That's quite a speech." Vance regarded him with a quizzical expression. "Are you quite sure than Agent's Gibbs decision to return isn't more for your sake than because he really wants to come back?"

"Agent Gibbs never wanted to leave." DiNozzo spoke with utter certainly.

"Paperwork on my desk says differently." Vance pointed out.

At those words, the two men sitting in front of him exchanged an unreadable look. Vance was surprised by the slight fond quirk of Gibbs lips and the resulting raised eyebrows from DiNozzo. The Director had the feeling that a thousand things he didn't understand had just been exchanged in that single glance. He wanted to see who would respond first. And for the first time it was Gibbs who answered, his gaze never leaving his senior field agent.

"That was the pain and blood loss talking. Being shot can do that to you so I'm told. Taking the mandatory sick leave helped me get more than a few things in perspective. I'm ready to return to duty."

"I see," Vance said, even though he didn't. It was all too easy not to let his satisfaction hat he had achieved the outcome that he had wanted show on his face. Not least because he didn't have the first clue how DiNozzo had talked his intransient Boss around. And that frustrated the investigator in him. Because the more he tried to understand the dynamic between these two the more he felt like an outsider. "Agent Gibbs, I trust you understand that sick leave or not, this is a one time deal? If your retirement paperwork crosses my desk a second time, I will process it."

"Yeah," Even though Gibbs didn't so much as glance as his senior field agent Vance had the feeling _that_ subject had already been fully discussed. "I hear that."

"Alright then," Vance didn't see any way to take this further. "You are both free to return to your duties. I will have Agents McGee and David reassigned to the MCRT as soon as the cases they are presently assisting on wrap up. You're dismissed, gentlemen."

The two men rose as one, despite the mis-matched outfits, Gibbs store bought sports jacket and pants contrasting sharply with DiNozzo's expertly tailored suit, their synchronised movements reflected their co-ordination in the field. As they made their way out of his office Vance leant back in his chair and wished he could be a fly on the wall to hear the two men's comments as they made their way back to the bullpen.

"Perspective, huh?" DiNozzo didn't even try to hide his amusement as they by-passed the elevator and made their way down the stairs. "That what all the stubborn, pig-headed, marines are calling it these days?"

"You miss the part of that conversation that said I'm still your Boss, DiNozzo?" Gibbs demanded. "That means I can take you down to the gym and kick your ass."

"I never doubted that for a second, Boss," Tony agree, a lightening fast grin illuminating his whole face. "You can move pretty fast for an old guy."

"You callin' me old, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked dangerously quietly.

"Old_er_," Tony amended. "Mature, experienced, distinguished, any of those working for you?"

Gibbs had to try really hard to smother his grin and assume a stern expression. One of the things he liked most about DiNozzo was his ability to get in his face and give him as good as he gave. Very few people were able to look past the former marine's gruff facade and realise that he actually liked people with the cojones to stand up to him.

"I can live with distinguished." He decided, as he moved towards his desk, pulling out his chair and powering up his computer. Looking up he was slightly surprised to see DiNozzo was still right on his six, hovering in front of his desk, instead of heading off towards his own. He raised a brow in mild question. "Something on your mind?"

"I mean what I said," Tony regarded him seriously. "You're better at this job than most guys half your age. We both know the time will come when you have to retire and when that day actually arrives I will be proud to step up and take on this team. Until then, I expect you to step up to the plate and do your job. If you ever let ego get in the way of that again.."

He left the threat hanging, knowing that his Boss would understand he meant business. Contrary to what his teammates might think it didn't matter to him that there was nobody around to see him being the one making the stand. All he really cared about what the well being of his team and that included whatever was in Gibbs' own best interest. And he knew the former marine understood that.

"You about done?" Gibbs challenged.

"For now." Tony decided.

The two men stared at each other for a long moment, before they each broke into broad grins, which spoke far more any words about the depth of their understanding of each other. Heading back towards his own desk Tony was aware of his Boss' eyes following him and knew without seeing that that half smirk smile that he reserved for those times he was especially proud of his senior field agent was hovering on his lips.

"Hey, DiNozzo," Gibbs waited until his senior field agent turned around, his eyes questioning. "That was a good job."

"You too, Boss," Tony met his gaze. They had both survived to fight another day. In his book that was always a victory. "You too."

The End.


End file.
